


Between the Carnival and the Vegetable Patch is Home

by Zaccari



Series: The Between verse [1]
Category: Kane (Band), Supernatural RPF
Genre: Community: spn_j2_bigbang, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-05
Updated: 2012-02-05
Packaged: 2017-10-30 15:26:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/333201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zaccari/pseuds/Zaccari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the six years since Supernatural finished Jared's star has continued to rise. Now though it's threatening to go supernova before morphing into a black hole. Every life he touches is falling apart. So what else is there left to do but end up in Oklahoma working on Christian Kane's ranch. Jared can't break anything there, Christian's already shattered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Between the Carnival and the Vegetable Patch is Home

~Christian’s POV~

“There’s absolutely no use in me telling you this is another bad idea, in a very long line of bad ideas, you’ve had over the last half a dozen years in relation to Jared, is it?”

“No.”

Short, sweet and straight to the pointy end of everything.

“Yeah, well, too bad, because I’m going to fucking say it anyway. Jensen, I know you love him, but he doesn’t need to be coddled anymore. He needs a swift, hard kick in the pants. Maybe if that part of his anatomy starts to feel some kind of sensation, he’ll realise that no matter who’s been telling him what these days, the sun doesn’t actually shine out of his ass.”

“Christian, he can’t-“

“What can’t he do, Jen? Go to rehab? Is that a little too Lindsay Lohan for him? That little train wreck’s on her what? Sixth stop at station rehabilitation? I’ve got news for you Jen, Jared is a whole lot of Lindsay Lohan right now, and that’s not just because they both lack the ability to stay sober.”

In the six years since Supernatural ended, Jared has been the wonder boy of Hollywood, going from mega hit to mega hit earning a name as a gracious, hard working, honest, loyal man. 

To the public at least.

Privately, the song Jared’s been living his life by is just a little different. Over the years there have been rumours of drugs, booze, goddamn steroids of all things, and to be honest I’ve tried not to find out how much of those rumours are actually fact. First and foremost, Jared was Jensen’s best friend and I had to be able to look at him without killing him for pissing it all away once in a while. The one thing there was no way of escaping though is the absolute truth of him fucking anything that’ll spread their legs for him. Boy, girl, either, or, together, apart. To say he’s not fussy is probably playing the whole thing down about five levels. How his dick hasn’t turned green and dropped off I’ll never know.

But now, somehow, what’s been private knowledge for too many years is on the front page of both ‘People’ and ‘The National Enquirer’. Jared Padalecki bringing the world’s press together in ways that we had prayed we’d never see but, let’s face it, it’s been a long time coming. 

And I don’t even want to contemplate what the internet has to say about this whole clusterfuck.

“Christian, are you going to let him come down to your ranch or not? Because if you aren’t…”

Jensen just trails off like he has no idea what he’ll do if I say no.

“Jen, I’m serious. You can’t keep this up. You have Dani, your beautiful baby boy, and you’re responsible for them, not Jared. And I’m scared that somehow he’s going to be the reason why you end up losing both of them.”

Danneel’s been a saint, but I saw the look in her eyes the last time they were here. Her limits are approaching at a rate that’s gaining speed like a racehorse that suddenly sees there’s nothing between it and the finishing line.

“I won’t let that happen, Christian.”

He goes quiet for a minute or two, but something tells me he’s got something else to say. So I just stay silent and wait.

I don’t have to wait that long.

“I already know this has to be the last time, Chris, I’m not going to be trying again. I know…I know I haven’t failed, that I’ve done everything but fucking do rehab for him, but I can’t help feeling like…it still seems like failure, Christian. I wish it didn’t, but it does.”

You might not be able to help that, Jensen, but I guess I can.

“Okay, Jen, he can come, but before you start thanking me, there are some conditions and some fucking big strings attached. No drugs, and I do mean nothing. I will go through his bags when he arrives and I will flush anything I find down the toilet. None of his so-called friends will be welcomed here and to be honest, I’d rather you stayed away for a while as well. He’ll be expected to work while he’s here, and finally, you won’t be bringing him here, Jen. He has to know what’s expected of him and he has to make his own way here. None of those conditions are negotiable, Jensen, I’m sorry.”

All that answers me is silence. Maybe I pushed my luck, but I learnt a very long time ago to start as I mean to go on.

The silence is broken with one long, deep, kind of shuddering inhale.

“Okay, Christian, okay. I’ll make sure Jared knows everything. And I’ll let you know when you can expect him.”

“Don’t, Jen, I’ll know he’s arrived when he’s standing on the front porch.”

“Thank you, Christian.”

Never in my life have I ever heard the sound of relief threaded so much into three simple words.

“Don’t thank me, Jen, I doubt Jared will be any time soon. Just look after Dani and Matthew. For God’s sake, Jensen, you’re the one of us that’s got it all, please don’t ever forget that.”

“I won’t. And we’ll be seeing you soon enough.”

“Sounds good, son. Kiss your family for me, and I’ll call you soon.”

I don’t say if Jared turns up, but after everything, it’s kind of a given.

As we say our goodbyes and hang up, I can’t help hoping that Danneel’s there for Jen. And all I’m praying for in regards to myself is that whatever happens I get through it all without ending up in jail for killing Jared.

That would be a very bad thing. Wouldn’t it?

~*~

I swear to god, the idiot pounding on my front door is going to die. I feel like I just went to bed; fuck, I realise as I glimpse the clock on the mantle, I did just go to bed. It takes me a good five, meaning it’s probably closer to ten, minutes to get some sweats on and get close enough to the door that whoever it is that’s trying to wake the dead will actually hear me.

“Stop fucking trying to break down the door, I’m coming as quickly as I can.”

Knowing I’m tired, and that I get clumsy when I’m tired, has me moving fairly slowly, but I really don’t need anymore pain right now.

But the noise stops. Thank god I don’t have anything even vaguely like close neighbours.

I really don’t know what, or who, I was expecting, but Jared Padalecki and a single backpack would have been guess number four thousand and thirty-seven.

“Jared? It’s four in the fucking morning, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Jen…Jen asked you if I could come down, right? Well, here I am.”

He’s joking right?

After everything, he has got to be fucking joking.

“Six fucking months ago, Padalecki. Jensen asked me about you coming down here six months ago.”

I waited for about two weeks, Jen held out for maybe four. Then there was a breaking news story about Jared getting caught fucking some starlet in the back of cab, and I know I stopped entertaining any thought Jared would turn up after that.

“Does that mean the offer’s no good anymore?”

I’m not sure the offer was all that good in the first place.

That’s when something occurs to me, and I really wish it hadn’t. 

“What the fuck did you do, Jared? Why are you here now?”

Something smells and it’s not just Jared’s shirt that doesn’t look like it’s been changed in a week.

“Look, man, if you don’t want me here, I’ll just borrow your phone and leave.”

Jared’s trying to be humble, and all that does is convince me I’m right.

“What. Did. You. Fucking. Do.”

The only thing keeping me upright is the cane I’m leaning on, but I can still glare with the best of them.

“Dani left Jensen.”

Jared’s voice might be barely above a whisper, but mine registers well above a screech.

“You motherfucking cock-sucking asshole!”

I’d love to say I stalked away, but it’s more of a hobble, broken up with the odd stumble, but I leave Jared where he stands and the door’s still wide open as I head towards the phone.

No, I’m not calling Jensen. I’m calling Steve.

He answers like he’s expecting me.

“Hey, Christian.”

He also sounds like he’s exhausted and been conscious for about a week.

“What’s happened, Steve?”

There’s no need to qualify my question.

“Jared happened, Christian, it’s as simple and as complicated as that. Though, fuck, man, in the long run, I’m really not sure what in hell happened. I know Jared called Jen to bail him out or something, and I know Danneel asked him not to go, well okay, she might have said it’s him or us, but you know what? The best wife would have given Jensen that ultimatum months ago, especially after Matthew, the fact Dani has put up with this shit as long as she has…well, you know.”

Yeah, I know.

“Jensen went after Jared, didn’t he?”

“Yeah, and when he got back, Dani and Matthew were gone. I think what happened, which was essentially Jen trashing his entire house, scaring the fuck out of Jared, who called me and then left before I even got there.”

He’s a dead man. When I get off the phone, I swear, Jared’s a dead man.

“How’s Jen? Have you heard from Dani?”

“Jen’s out cold, exhaustion I guess. One minute he was talking to me, the next he just fell over. Before you ask, I checked his breathing, pulse and all that shit. I’ve tried to call Dani, left messages and called Riley just in case. Of what I don’t know, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. As fucked as it sounds, Chris, I really don’t think she wants to leave Jensen, I think she wanted him to know she would.”

A little wake up call never hurt anybody.

“Call Josh as well, she’s close to him and his wife. Fuck, Steve, I just can’t believe it got to this point.”

“He’s there, isn’t he?”

I guess it just dawned on Steve there was no other way I’d know if he wasn’t the one to tell me.

“Yeah, standing on the front porch.”

“You going to let him stay?”

Now there’s a perfectly good question; I just wish I had an answer that was equally as good.

“I’ll be honest, Steve, all I want to do is beat the shit out of him, which we both know I can’t do.”

I’m not talking out of any loyalty to Jen. Unfortunately I mean physically it’s just not something my body could do nowadays.

“You’ve got a cane and you know how to use it, Christian.” 

“I could threaten to jam it up his ass, but it wouldn’t fit with his head up there and all.”

Steve’s answering laugh is kind of forced and I finally remember to sit down, only falling the last couple of inches until my ass meets the seat.

“Chris?”

Somehow Steve just instinctively knows that somewhere in the last ten seconds I had something that resembled a change of heart.

“If I keep him here, he can’t fuck with them anymore, Steve. It’ll give Jensen the space to see where his head should be, and give Danneel back her husband.”

“Are you sure? And don’t go getting all defensive on me, I don’t mean you don’t know your own mind, I’m only asking because it won’t do Jensen any good if he goes from worrying about Jay to worrying about you.”

We both know that isn’t what Steve means either. Because it won’t be Jensen worrying about me, but neither of us calls what he just said for the bullshit we both know it is.

“Am I sure I want Jared here? No, I’m not. Am I sure it’s good idea, given his history and mine? No, I’m actually pretty sure it’s the worst idea in the history of forever. But am I going to do it anyway…yeah, I am. But don’t you go fucking stressing yourself grey over it, Carlson.”

I owe Jensen more than I’ll ever be able to repay, that’s the long and the short of it. I can’t do much anymore to even that ledger but I can do this.

“How can I not, Chris? This is you here, worrying is what I do best.”

And maybe it’s my fault that Steve’s alone as much as it’s Jared’s fault that Dani walked out.

Wow, hello guilt, when did you arrive? Fuck, Christian, just get over yourself already.

“How about I promise to call you if I need you? Like cross my heart and all that shit?”

Promise. It’s one word I don’t use that often, so I know Steve will get how serious I am.

“Okay, if you sure. And call me at least twice a week.”

Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. I guess Steve paid attention when I was teaching him lessons in Kane after all.

“I will. Right now though you need to call Josh, go check on Jensen and I’ll go get the Padalecki from my porch.”

“You mean you’re not going to make him sleep out there?”

“Not tonight.”

Or what’s left of it. I’m not making any rash statements about tomorrow though.

“Christian? Look after yourself please.”

Strangely, I don’t make that statement as much of a throwaway thing as I used to.

“I will, if you will. I know how tired you are, Steve; I can hear it in your voice. Now go do what you have to, text me if you find out where Dani and Matthew are and…remind Jensen about the rules I laid out when he first asked about Jared coming down here.”

“Love you, Christian.”

“I know and it’s mutual. Night, Steve.”

Both of us disconnect without saying another word and I’m just too fucking tired and sore to move. I just close my eyes and let the sofa continue to hold me upright.

“Get your ass in here, son, and close the fucking door on your way in.”

I do actually hear the door shut, just, then there’s the sound of somebody trying not to make too much noise as they walk on polished floorboards while wearing boots to let me know that Jared is coming closer. Six foot what-the-fuck-ever of Jared Padalecki trying to be quiet. Yeah, right.

“Are you okay?”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting Jared to speak, and I even if I was, I sure wouldn’t have expected him to ask about me.

“Do you honestly expect me to believe you give a fuck?”

I’m letting him stay, not letting him off the hook.

“No.”

Well, as long as we both know where we stand. Yes, I am ignoring the defeated sound to Jared’s voice. He always was an incredible actor.

“I’m tired and sore, and I only went to bed an hour before you got here.”

“Tuesday night a big party night for you, Kane?”

I must have imagined the tone I heard in his voice just before, because there’s nothing but one hundred percent jackass movie star there now.

“It’s Thursday, asshole, and I’d appreciate that if you can’t say something without that fucking tone in your voice, you don’t say anything at all.”

“Who are you, my mother?”

Well if nothing else, that gets my eyes open, and me leaning forward towards Jared who’s now sitting in the chair opposite me.

“My house, my rules. Speaking of which, empty all of your pockets and the back pack onto the table.”

“What?”

The look of sheer outrage on Jared’s face would be hysterical – if anything about this was even remotely funny.

“There were conditions to you coming here six months ago, and they still stand. Right now I want to make sure you don’t have any kind of fucking junk on you, so could you hurry up please. I want to go back to bed before it’s time to get up again.”

Jared’s back to glaring at me with nothing but pure hatred in his eyes. It’s pretty much exactly the look that’s being returned to him.

“Do it, Padalecki, or leave. And in those boots it’ll be a long walk back to town.”

When he stands up, I’m fairly sure of two things. One is, right now he really does hate me, and two, he’s leaving.

I don’t know which one of us is more surprised when his wallet falls onto the table.

Five minutes later my coffee table is covered with crap and Jared is standing in front of me totally naked. I really should have known he’d try and find some way to piss me off.

And I am, but it’s got fuck all to do with the whole naked thing.

“How much thought did you put into coming down here? You’ve got the shoes on your feet, three pairs of boxers, six pairs of socks and what? The jeans you’re wearing, two spare t-shirts and pack of condoms? Fuck me, was your P.A. too busy blowing you to help you pack?”

“I didn’t exactly think this through at all.”

You’re naked, Jared. The whole evil eye thing with your hands on your hips loses a lot in translation.

“Well thank you, Captain Obvious! Now on top of everything else we have to go into town tomorrow and shop for fucking clothes. Great. One last thing before I go to bed and you go have the fucking shower that you desperately need – what’s going to be working its way out of your system while you’re here?”

“What?”

“What the hell are you going to be drying out from? Name that drug, alcohol, rat poison, whatever. I just want to know what to expect.”

“Nothing.”

So far tonight I’ve met about three different Jared’s, and now we have the sullen teenager version, because he actually sounds like it hurts to admit he’s even vaguely sober.

It’s a damn shame I don’t believe him in the slightest, isn’t it?

“Yeah, right, whatever. But if that’s the way you want to play it right now I’m too fucking tired to argue. You can get your shit whenever, but if you want to know where you room is, follow me.”

Strangely he actually get bonus points for not rushing over to help me as I struggle to stand up, leaning so hard on my cane I think it would have snapped if it wasn’t for the metal rod hidden within the polished rosewood.

I might have broken one or two when I first started walking with them.

It’s a slow trip upstairs and a quiet one, because all of my concentration is on putting one foot in front of the other and not ending up face down on the floor. There’s nothing left over for redundant small talk.

Eventually I’m standing in the hall, a doorway either side of me.

“That’s you, and that’s me.” My first wave of my hand is towards the left, then to the right. “The bathroom is the last door down the end there and there are new toothbrushes and whatever in the cupboard beneath the sink. If you need anything…bother me about it in about two hours when I’m awake again. Just get some sleep and we’ll deal with everything else in the morning.”

I really need to get off my feet before my legs give out from under me so I’m starting to shuffle towards my room when Jared speaks.

“Why’re you doing this?”

“Does it matter?”

I’m not turning around, I refuse to move any more than I absolutely have to right now, but I don’t have to, because I can actually hear Jared shrug.

“No, I guess not. Not tonight anyway. Goodnight, Chris.”

It’s petty of me, I know, but I don’t answer him. I refuse to say goodnight like he’s a friend. Any kind of friend. All I want to do is lay down, so I start moving again, slamming the door behind me as I go.

Five minutes later when I’m finally in bed, trying like hell to will my muscles into relaxing enough to let me at least pretend to sleep, it hits me.

What I’ve agreed to, who’s actually staying here, how badly I might have fucked up this time.

But I owe Jensen, and Dani…and Steve.

And this really is another bad idea in a really long line of bad ideas when it comes to Jared Tristan Padalecki. 

~*~

“You let me sleep in.”

It’s a little after ten when Jared makes his way out on to the back porch.

“It was four the in morning when you got here, Jared, you looked like you hadn’t slept in a week, I’m not that much of an ass that I’d be getting you up at six just for the fucking fun of it.”

I’ve been sitting here for the last half hour trying to work out how I’m going to handle all of this. It’s fair to say the only conclusion I’ve come to is that I have no fucking idea.

“I hate to break it to you, Chris, but you are that much of an ass. Or you were.”

But it doesn’t seem to matter if I’ve reached any conclusions or form a plan or anything, because apparently we’re doing this now.

Fucking great.

“Sit down, Jared…actually no. Would you mind grabbing me a cup of coffee, and one for yourself if you want it, then you can sit down and I guess we’ll fucking talk about everything. Then I’ll either drive you into town so you can catch a plane back to L.A., or we’ll be getting you some clothes you can actually wear while you’re here.”

“How do you have it?”

“Black and two sugars.”

He doesn’t say anything else before he goes back inside.

I guess this is the start of a much needed truce. Somewhere around five this morning, and my third dose of Tylenol because I didn’t want to take anything stronger, I realised that I just can’t spend the next however long being a dick. 

Okay, well I can, but I don’t want to.

A couple of minutes later Jared is back and handing me my coffee before he sits down in the chair beside mine.

Yeah, I see the slight shake to his hand and the fact he hasn’t filled the cup as much as somebody normally would so that he doesn’t spill it. But if an almost tremor is all that he’s got at the moment, then I guess there’s a chance he might have been telling me the truth last night when he said he wasn’t drying out.

Or at least not to the point where he’ll be seeing the wallpaper in his bedroom turn into spiders before they tried to eat him alive.

“What’s going on, Chris?”

“We don’t know each other.”

Gee, Christian, could you have been a little more cryptic there?

“We’ve known each other for almost fifteen years, man.”

People tend to forget I met Jared a long time before he and Jensen started the whole Supernatural roller coaster. Half the time I tended to think Jared forgot as well.

“No, we haven’t. We’ve known of each other’s existence, we’ve had mutual friends, we’ve got drunk together-“

“We’ve had two nights of amazing sex.”

Actually it was three, but I’m not at all surprised he doesn’t remember the last night. God knows I’d like to have forgotten it.

“Yeah, there was that. But seriously, Jared, we don’t fucking know each other. We’ve never been friends without the buffer of Jensen, Riley or even Steve, and it’s been years since we even had that whole acquaintance thing going on. I’ll be honest, you aren’t my favourite person right now, but of all people I know I shouldn’t believe everything written in the tabloids. So this is…my life is a whole lot different than I ever thought it would be, but I like it and I refuse to spend my time in this world spitting piss and vinegar at you. If you want to be here, you’re welcome to stay and sort your shit out. But at the risk of repeating myself in my old age, you will be expected to work and those so-called friends of yours aren’t welcome. I’ve asked Jen to stay away because he just can’t make you any kind of priority right now. You need to either stand on your own two feet or fall on your face, but you need to do it without a Jensen shaped crutch. Fuck, I don’t even know what I’m trying to say anymore; I’m beyond fucking punch drunk. I guess I’m just trying to say it’s up to you, but if you’re serious about everything, you can stay.”

Which really isn’t what I think I was trying to say at all, but it wouldn’t even be the first time this week my mouth has failed to translate what my brain was transmitting.

“Why’re you doing this?”

I guess the answer matters this morning.

“Because I owe Jen. Because once upon a time I thought you might become a friend of mine. Yeah, I have no fucking idea, Jared. Maybe it’s just because I really want a vegetable garden and can’t set the fucker up myself.”

I’m smiling, but Jared’s doing nothing but staring into a cup of coffee he hasn’t so much as taken a mouthful from yet.

“I’ve fucked up more than you know, Chris.”

You’ve probably fucked up more than *you* know, Jared.

Finishing the last of my coffee, I lean down and put it on the porch.

“If you say so, Jared. If you’ve amends to make, that’s your lot to see through. Staying here won’t guarantee you a second chance with anybody, or magically make LaLa Land forgive you your screw ups. I hope it’ll give you a chance to remember that fucking wide-eyed kid that couldn’t stop smiling and loved pretty much the entire world. People miss him, Jared. Important people.”

Neither of us need me to list them.

Jared finally swallows down his cold coffee before putting his cup down beside mine.

“You do realise that this is a complete about face from last night and it’s making it seem like you have a slight personality disorder, don’t you?”

“What can I say? I’ve had no sleep and a lot of time to think.”

Some nights thinking is all I do.

“You’re right, I don’t know you. I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask how you are, what you do here or any of that kind of stuff.”

“You can ask, but right now we need to go into town. You need clothes, the house needs extra food and we also need to get everything required for my vegetable garden.”

For the first time since he arrived, which feels like a week ago not roughly eight hours, Jared smiles.

He always did have the most amazing smile.

“You really want me to plant you a garden?”

“You’ll be doing more than planting it, son. It’ll need to be a raised bed so I can pick everything when I’m here by myself, so you’ll be building before you get to any kind of planting.”

“I’ll go get my boots.”

I guess that’s a yes to him staying.

Or at the very least I don’t think he’s leaving today.

~*~

~Jared’s POV~

I was there when Jensen got the call from Steve. The one that said Chris had been in an accident and that things were about as far away from good as they could be with Chris still breathing. I don’t remember how I got to Jensen’s. I don’t remember where I was the night before, or who I was with. But I know I was there to hear about the drunk driver who had run a red light leaving Chris with so many broken bones that his skin had become a bag just to keep all the pieces in. I watched Danneel hold Jensen while he cried and somehow I ended up at the hospital with them both, and that’s where I watched Jensen hold Steve when it was Steve’s turn to cry.

I left before Chris’ family got there and never went back.

Even after seeing all of that, it never occurred to me that Jensen would have cried for me. Not until I stood there while Dani was watching Jensen cry instead of comforting him.

The main difference I can see between the tears Jensen has apparently cried for me and those that he has cried for Chris is that there’s an innocence on Chris’ side that I can never lay claim too.

Well that and Chris picked his broken ass up and lives a life he actually seems to enjoy. Me, I’ve kind of lost track of whose life I’m meant to be living this week. Ask anybody else though, and they’ll tell you I’m the golden boy, the one with talent not yet tapped, I’ve got everything. If you ask me during a lucid five minutes when I’m actually being honest with myself, I’ll tell you exactly what I’ve got.

Nothing. 

Those lucid moments are as few and far between as I can possibly help them to be.

God, Dani taking Matthew and leaving Jen might have been the deciding factor in my flying out to Oklahoma with nothing more than a not even half-baked idea of trying to do something to help myself. But it’s not what hammered the point home with all the subtly of a twenty pound sledgehammer upside my right temple.

No, that honour belongs to shopping with Christian Kane on a Friday morning in Norman, Oklahoma.

I was too busy concentrating on making sure my hands didn’t shake when Chris dragged me into the feed store to have everything he needed for his vegetable garden delivered out to the ranch. I guess he really is going to have me build that fucking thing, because I know so much about vegetable gardens and all.

By the time we’d moved on to the strip mall to get whatever clothes, shoes and shit I needed, my main concern was not throwing up. I’d told Chris I wasn’t coming down from anything and I’m not. 

Not exactly.

But I’m not exactly clean and sober either, and if that’s my only excuse for not noticing Chris, well, yeah. It’s piss poor and I guess I really am as self-absorbed as people profess me to be. Because when Chad tells you you’re a pitiful excuse for his best friend you kind of have to look up to find the rock bottom you’ve supposed to have hit.

Anyway two, maybe three, hours after Chris brings me into the place he considers his hometown I finally notice.

“Are you okay?”

That, right there, is the stupidest question I’ve ever asked. I mean, c’mon. Chris’ skin is that grey colour that is only created when pain meets stubborn in a head on collision, and even I can see the beads of sweat in amongst the stubble above his top lip. 

“I’m fine.”

You know what, even if that hadn’t been said through clenched teeth, there’s no way in hell I would have believed it.

“I know we’re not friends, close or otherwise, but are you going to lie to me every time I ask a question? Because if you are, can you please just tell me now so I won’t bother asking any more.”

I’m not going to be examining why Chris trying so obviously to feed me bullshit stings. The whole self analysis crap never leads anywhere good, no matter what Oprah is still trying to tell us.

He’s leaning hard on the supermarket cart, his cane is hooked over the same handle that his hands are clenched so tight around I’m not sure he’ll be able to let go when the time comes. But even with all that he’s trying to push himself a little more upright, sinking his teeth into his lower lip as he does. 

“Let’s just get this done and get back to the ranch. I’m going to be fucking useless for the rest of the day so you can ask whatever you want to know then.”

I don’t think I wanted to know anything other that if Chris was okay, but since the answer to that question is as obvious as I am tall, maybe there was some ulterior motive in there somewhere.

Or maybe when it comes to people I don’t really know I suck at small talk that’s not based around sex, drugs and more sex. I used to know Chris, a little, enough to know how he tastes and what gets him off in bed, but I have no idea what, or who, rocks his world anymore. 

Or even if there is a who.

“Jared?”

The tone of pained frustration tells me this isn’t the first time Chris has said my name while my thoughts have gone fuck knows where without my permission.

“Sorry. What?”

A single bead of sweat trickles from Chris’ hairline then down his cheek like his body is crying the tears he won’t allow his eyes to shed.

“I really need to get home, so do you think you can focus enough to help me get what we need as quickly as we can?”  
  


For the next half an hour, I grab whatever I’m directed to, answer whatever question I’m asked about what I will and won’t eat all the while wondering if Chris was always this stubborn. Because even when I tell him I’ll be back with the whatever the hell I’m grabbing, he follows along behind me, grabbing the pasta I could have easily gotten. Even though every time he lets go of the cart he looks like he’s scared to death he’ll fall flat on his face.

“Exactly how long is the time frame we’re buying food for?”

Because the cart is damn near full of more than I think I’ve had in my house for the past two years combined. The same shopping cart is the only thing holding Chris upright.

Well that and fucked up will power.

“If we’re lucky, with all of this and what I have at home already, there’ll be enough food for a month.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Christ, Kane, we have enough. You’re about to go down in a flaming heap of pain. If you need anything else we can come back and get it tomorrow.”

“In case you haven’t fucking noticed, Jared, I don’t do real well when I’m on my fucking feet for hours on end, and I do just that much worse when I haven’t had any sleep the night before, therefore I try not to come into town more than I have to, twice a month at most. So I’m getting what I, we, need today. And before you say it, you won’t be fucking driving anywhere until I’m sure that shake in your hands, that you not hiding as well as you apparently think you are, won’t end up with my truck wrapped around a tree. Now will you please go get me some fucking Jarlsberg cheese?”

What else is there for me to do but get his fucking cheese? 

Another fifteen minutes later and we’re finally done and for the first time in a long time I want to help somebody that isn’t Jensen or my sister, but there’s just one little problem. I have no idea how to.

Can I offer Chris an arm to help him walk to the truck? Do I take the cart or is that more stable than his cane? I’m nowhere stupid enough to even think about offering to drive home. Even without his little speech in the market I don’t think the guy that was taken out by a drunk driver is going to let somebody he considers a drunk drive. The fact that I’m basically sober has nothing to do with anything really.

Okay, here goes nothing.

“I know you can’t really stand up and you’re in more pain that I could even begin to imagine, but I have no idea how to help, or even if I *can* help, so if you want me to do something you’re going to have to ask.”

That didn’t come out right, I don’t think. Fuck, Jared, this is the guy that shattered his pelvis and both of his legs to the point where there’s more titanium than bone in both of those areas now and yet he still lives alone on a ranch that raises, well, something. Do you honestly think he’s going to ask anybody for help, let alone you?

When he speaks, I actually jump.

“Can you put the food in the bed of the truck? First though, can you – fuck I hate this – I’m going to need a hand getting into the cab.”

It’s my fault he’s like this. I mean I’m the reason he pushed too hard today. Me and a streak of stubborn that has always been legendary when it comes to Christian Kane.

“I can do that. But, fuck, I’m sorry, you’ll have to tell me how and where I grab you so it won’t hurt more than it already is. I kind of doubt it’s the same as principle as lifting my niece onto the island bench.”

Chris is gritting his teeth so hard I’m surprised I can’t hear the enamel starting to fracture.

“There’s nothing you can do that won’t hurt right now, but there’s also nothing you can do that’ll cause more pain either. Just…can you just take my weight while I step up? I guess I’d better warn you though, you’ll be taking pretty much all of it.”

Weights I can do. Weights I’ve always done, even when I’m still drunk, or high, from the night before. Chris’ll be easy. He’s still toned, but nothing like what he was. He used to be so much larger than life and smaller is the only word I can think of to describe him now. I’m sure he’s lost an inch or two in height with the accident, but that’s not the only smaller I’m talking about.

As Chris puts both of my hands on his hips and wraps an arm as high on my neck as he can, he steps and I lift. I was wrong, it is kind of the same principle as lifting Emily when she wants up.

Yeah, that point’s still being hammered home. Except that now I think we’re up to a forty-pound sledge.

“I’ll just get the groceries secured, I won’t be long.”

Words are apparently beyond Chris right now. He’s sitting there, eyes closed, his lower lip is bloodless from having his front teeth pressed as deep as they can be into the flesh and I think he’s nodding as he tries to fumble the keys into the ignition.

The drive back to Chris’ place seems longer than the trip into town was, or maybe it’s just that it’s slower and that’s confusing me. It’s almost funny how the silence didn’t change.

Almost funny. Except that it’s not.

~*~

“What do you want to know?”

Well, when you put it like that…

“Fucked if I know.”

We’re sitting at the kitchen table, Chris looks like he’s about to pass out and yeah, I pretty much have no fucking idea.

“Are you always in this much pain?”

I guess that’s as good as any other place to start.

“No. I get worse when I haven’t had enough sleep, or rested enough. I had a sick horse last night and I’d only been in bed about an hour when you arrived. By the time we went upstairs, well, I couldn’t sleep. That always makes it worse.”

Yes, I know there’s more to that story, but I also know I have no right to ask about it.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

The look that gets me is scathing. Let me tell you, more often than not, having your reputation proceed you just fucks up everything.

“Okay, Chris, I get that you don’t like me, and despite whatever you keep saying, you really don’t want me here, but I’m here and I’d like to stay, so can you let me help?”

“You’re no help to anybody right now. Talk to me again when you’ve dried out.”

It’s not that fucking bad!

“I’m used to controlling myself, Kane, I’m not that bad. I can still function, still do whatever you might come up with me to do in that convoluted brain of yours.”

Until this very moment I never knew a laugh could sound like something crossed between a banshee’s cry and somebody being choked to death. It’s knowledge I could have lived without really.

“Your behaviour is you controlling yourself? Seriously? Fuck me, I’d hate to see you out of control then.”

“I function Chris. I make movies, have meetings, smile for the cameras, you remember all that shit don’t you?”

That was a direct hit I already know I’m going to pay for.

“You function? I know what that means, Jared. You know how much alcohol will keep the shakes gone, what pills will put you to sleep for how long, what pills will keep you awake just long enough, that’s your kind of functioning, isn’t it? Well as of last night there is no alcohol, no pills and for the first time in who knows how long you’re going to be completely sober. Think about that and tell me exactly how much help you’re going to be to me for the next few days.”

“It won’t be that bad.”

It’s not like I haven’t cut back before. Okay, I’ve never cut it out, but it won’t be that bad.

“You have no fucking idea.”

This is getting us nowhere.

“Okay, I have to dry out, and I’m too stupid to know what’s coming, what else do I need to know, Yoda?”

The ‘fucking asshole’ that Chris mutters is anything but under his breath.

“There’s a small gym upstairs, in the room next to my bedroom. It’s not designed for muscle building weight training, just for my therapy, use it, don’t use it, it’s up to you. There are books and a computer in the study, and you know where the TV and the stereo are. Build the vegetable garden, don’t fuck with my horses, help yourself to the food, clean up after yourself and I think we covered everything else last night. Do you need to know anything else?”

Would you tell me even if I did?

“No. That’s pretty much everything.”

The message of leave me the fuck alone was conveyed. 

“Good. I’m going upstairs, don’t come looking for me.”

Chris wipes the sweat from his temple and onto his shirt as he stands up, and before his face is completely out of sight, just one more time today, I see his teeth sink into his lower lip as he takes a step. 

I want to help, why do I want to help when I know I can’t?

That doesn’t stop me from sitting as still as I can, listening to every thump of cane and boots as they land against the floor. When a door slams, I let out the breath I didn’t know I was holding.

He made it.

So now I guess it’s my turn.

~*~

~Christian’s POV~

I swear it’s the sound of glass smashing that wakes me, but that’s okay. Because a dead man wouldn’t have slept through the ‘fuck’ that follows it. I don’t even want to think about what the thumping sound that comes after that is, because there’s no way it can be anything good.

A quick glance at the clock on my dresser tells me that this is just another night I won’t be getting more than four hours of sleep, and those four hours will be anything but consecutive. I guess the big question now is, do I get out of bed and find out why Jared seems to have forgotten it’s three in the morning and I was actually asleep for once? Or do I just presume he’s finally coming clean and ignore him?

The sound of even more shattering glass introduces me to option three and has me climbing out of bed. Option three being stopping the dumb fuck from totalling my house and himself in the process.

There are three more ‘fucks’ and a ‘Jesus Christ’ before I get to his room.

Opening the door the first thing I notice is a puddle of what I hope is water and what used to be a glass on the floor in front of me. By the look of the bedding, I’m guessing Jared is on the other side of bed, also on the floor.

“Padalecki?”

He brought this on himself, I’m not going to be doing sympathy at this point in the proceedings.

“F-fuck off.”

God, I really wish I could. I’ve already spent the last two days pretending I don’t give a fuck and praying for my game of make believe to come true.

“Yeah, how about no? This is my house, Jared, and I’d rather you didn’t fucking destroy it. Where’s the rest of the broken glass?”

“W-what?”

C’mon, Christian, grow a brain, you remember how this goes, don’t you? You can’t expect the idiot to hold an intelligent conversation right now.

Avoiding the mess that’ll have to be cleaned up later, I move very slowly and extremely deliberately towards where I think, and I hope, will be Jared. Yep, there he is, wrapped in a torn sheet trying to curl into a foetal position, shaking with his hair and skin wetter than it would be if he’d just gotten out of the shower.

He’s done a better job of hiding his come down that I thought he would, I have to give him that but fuck! He couldn’t have just told me when I asked so it didn’t have to get to this stage, could he? Nooooo. I can’t end up down there beside him, because I’ll never get up again, but I have to work out if the colossal klutz is bleeding from whatever else went crash. Oh this is going to be a barrel of laughs.

Bracing myself against the wall, I poke what I hope is Jared’s thigh with my cane.

“Jared, I need you to move. We have to make sure you haven’t cut yourself.”

“I’m f-fine. N-no pain.”

“Yeah, whatever. You’re just one big pain right now, so I doubt you’d know if you slit your fucking throat.”

“L-leave me alone.”

This time when I prod him, I don’t care what I’m hitting and I’m actually trying to make it hurt. It won’t right now, but I’ll be able to account for a decent bruise tomorrow or the day after that when Jared thinks the worst of it is over.

“I’m not leaving you alone, and I should probably warn you that there’s no way you can be as fucking pissy as I was coming down so do us both a favour and don’t even attempt it. I know you hurt, and I know you’re probably seeing aliens but I need you to move and I just can’t fucking get down there to make you.”

Ten minutes and three more budding cane tip bruises, Jared is finally leaning against the wall with what’s left of the sheet pooled in his lap. As near as I can see there’s no blood, but there’s also no way he spend the rest of the night in here. The bed needs stripping, I found the other lot of broken glass and I’m while grateful Jared didn’t sit in it, but I also have no idea how the hell he managed to miss it.

Somehow, Jared has to get in the shower, then, I guess, into my bed. It’s there or the couch and neither of us are safe to tackle the stairs tonight. 

I hate feeling this useless.

“Jared, we need to get you in the shower, can you get up?”

His head knocks against the wall as his teeth shake and it takes him a minute to gain enough control to answer me.

“I-I’ll fall and k-kill myself.”

He’s not wrong. But he’s also not going into the shower in the guest room.

“We’ll get you into the shower off of my room. It’s set up for me, complete with seat to stop said falling and killing. It’s a sissy way to shower, but you’re just going to have to trust me that it’s better than splitting your head open.”

Six stitches.

Twice.

“W-where?”

“The bathroom’s between my workout room and my bedroom, there’s a door either side. Through my bedroom is the most direct route, but you’re going to have to make sure you can walk the whole way, I can’t catch you.”

I can just hear my doctor if I had to make a phone call to explain that, ‘I’ve no idea how I ended up under two hundred or so pounds of stupid male, doc, honest.’ 

Jared just nods before pushing himself upright resting hard against the wall the whole time in a way that only looks a little bit familiar. 

Any other time the fact I’m not the slowest person in the house would make me smile, tonight though, not so much. Jared is literally taking one step at a time, never really shifting out of reach of a wall or a very solid piece of furniture. He almost falls over nothing in the hall way but the wall saves him from face planting the floor. God knows I had no chance of catching him. Besides, the walls in this place are used to me cursing my invisible dog and my own two left feet.

All in all a distance that is no more than twenty feet takes us both a very long ten minutes, but eventually Jared is leaning against the door way, panting, staring at my ‘shower’. Yeah, I might have taken a little poetic license with the concept of shower when I had this part of the house remodelled, because in reality my shower is a room about eight foot wide and fifteen feet long that’s tiled everywhere apart from the ceiling in special can’t fall on your ass and break neck tiles. One end has the normal basin, mirror, toilet routine, but the other end has four shower jets that come straight out from the wall with a fixed shower bench perfectly positioned in the middle of them. This shower has saved what’s left of my sanity on more than a few nights over the past half dozen years.

“C’mon, Jared, go, sit. It’ll help, I promise.”

There’s a vague nod, followed by a not so vague cringe because Jared forgot that moving his head hurts like hell right now, but then Jared wobbles toward the seat and as soon as he turns on the water hot enough to par boil vegetables his moan echoes around the small room.

“Take your time there’s plenty of hot water. I’m just gonna go grab some stuff, I’ll be back.”

I don’t wait for any answer, just turn around and leave him be. C’mon, there’s a naked Jared Padalecki almost orgasming because my shower just feels that good and I can only take so much.

Besides, there is some stuff I need to grab. For one thing, sweats or boxers or something for him to wear to bed because naked and my bed are just not on right now. And then maybe I can find aspirin, or preferably some Tylenol which’ll be gentler on Jared’s stomach. I doubt it’ll help anything, but it sure as fuck can’t hurt.

Hopefully by the time I’ve gotten all of that together he’ll be water logged and able to sleep. 

Fifteen minutes later he’s a prune and yeah, I think it’s time to get out. I’m exhausted even if he isn’t.

“Jared? Turn off the water, there’s a towel and some sweats on the vanity. Get dressed and we’ll try the whole bed thing.”

When Jared walks out of the bathroom, his hair and chest are still wet, the sweats are on and he’s shaking.

Show time folks.

“Stay there.”

From the way he’s using the wall to hold himself up I doubt he’s going anywhere soon. He doesn’t even move when I come back with a dry towel and attack his hair and torso.

“Get into bed, Jared.”

“Can’t…t-too far.”

“Get into my bed, Jared. I’m fucking tired, I need to sleep and I won’t if I’m worried you’ll fall head first down the stairs or something. You can sleep in here and I’ll keep an eye on you at least.”

Christian, are you fucking insane?

He wants to argue, I know that as well as I know my name, but he doesn’t, just climbs into bed. 

“Which side?”

Because I’m so used to sharing.

“Take which ever, but be warned, I can’t sleep flat on my back.”

The look that gets me is a little strange, but I don’t explain myself, just crawl into the half of the bed not filled with Jared and grab the control that raised the head of the bed to an angle I know I can deal with.

“It’s a variation on a hospital bed. There’s some Tylenol beside you on the bedside cabinet, take them.”

I could like this Jared, he does exactly what I say. It’s a damn shame about the earthquake rattling his body though.

“W-why?”

Playing dumb would be so easy, or I could tell him to shut up and sleep. 

“I got addicted to pain killers after my accident. I remember what coming down off them felt like and I really wouldn’t wish that on anybody, Jared.”

“Jen…never mentioned.”

“Yeah, well Jen doesn’t know. And I’d appreciate it if we kept it that way.”

“I’m s-sorry.”

Finally giving myself permission to relax, I lay back on my pillows and close my eyes. I have to sleep. Seriously, I have to sleep tonight.

“You’re not doing this to me, Jared. I’m a big boy, I have no intention of ever going down that path again so you haven’t brought something evil into my house. You should be sorry to Jen, Dani, and Matthew, maybe yourself, I’d say without a doubt you owe your parents an I’m sorry or ten, I know I did, but you don’t owe me shit.”

“You hate me.”

God, I wish.

“No, I don’t hate you, Jared. I’m tired, you’re tired and you’ve probably got at least another twenty four hours of feeling like crap. You should sleep while you can.” 

Pulling at the covers, Jared ends up with them around his throat, trying to keep himself warm, when he’s actually radiating heat like the damn furnace downstairs that I spent a fortune on. I just let him have the bed clothes and reach down to grab the quilt over the foot of the bed.

“Chris?”

“Jared, okay, you don’t need to sleep, but I do. The pain gets worse with no sleep, do you remember me telling you that much? I’m running on stores of energy I don’t have, please shut up.”

The bed shifts, but he doesn’t say anything and I finally let myself surrender. There will actually be some sleep tonight.

And the ‘thank you’ that I think I hear follows me under. 

~*~

~Jared’s POV~

Waking up by myself, and by that I mean both alone and without the aid of some kind of an alarm, feels nothing short of weird. Then again, I’ve been at Chris’ for about ten days now and my first thought when I wake up is still ‘Where am I?’ so I guess weird is going to be a continuing theme for a while yet.

I’m in Oklahoma, with a man that can’t seem to do more than tolerate me. I don’t know why I’m still here…Other than I have nowhere else to be.

Yeah, the whole emo thing has kind of been a continuing theme for the last ten days as well.

It should be strange that I don’t know what time it is, shouldn’t it? I haven’t put my watch on in at least a week, and this house seem to be remarkably light on clocks, but I can see the sunlight trying to filter in through the gap between the pull down blind and the window frame and the house is quiet so my guess is breakfast was more than a few hours ago.

Up until yesterday I wondered why Chris didn’t wake me to help with the chores around this place. I mean there are a few people that seem to drop in for an hour here, or a half hour there, but there’s nobody with Chris for any real length of time. And it’s not like he didn’t tell me I’d be working for my keep. But no, I’ve been shown where he wants his garden, told where to find the tools I’d need and then nothing. 

Yesterday though, instead of getting garden beds ready, I watched Chris. He uses a four-wheeler bike with a weirdly modified seat to get around when he has to go any great distance and there’s a trailer behind it to carry whatever he might need. There are these strange looking homemade rigs to help him lift what his legs have no power for and the whole place is set up just for him. Even the six horses he keeps seem to know what Chris is and isn’t capable of. Fuck, I swear his dog, who doesn’t like me one little bit, is more farm hand than pet. 

That’s when it dawned on me, Chris doesn’t ask me to help, because he doesn’t need me. He doesn’t need anybody. Even the garden I’m making is designed for him to be able to work alone. 

Chris was always so fucking wound up in his family, and his friends, and yet, in this life, he’s as alone as I am. I probably deserve it, but Chris? Yeah, I don’t think so. And I don’t understand why he chose this way of life. He didn’t have to leave L.A., he didn’t have to leave the industry or stop singing. 

But he did.

It doesn’t make sense, and I can hear this voice in my head telling me it doesn’t concern me. What Christian Kane does is up to him, I’m here to try and put Jared Padalecki back together. Not that he was ever broken, just fucked up.

I’m still fucked up.

Only now there’s no drugs or alcohol to blame and I’ve always had them there like old friends to take the fall. But it’s not like that’s all they did either, they’ve been good friends, there for the good times as well as the bad. Or at least that’s what they told me when I needed them to help me work when pain was the other side of tolerable. Or when I didn’t feel like being the world’s goofiest puppy. They’ve been my crutch, my support system, and the leader of the band inside my head when I needed a parade or there to justify my world. They’re the ones that yell at me the loudest, screaming out that all I can ever do is fuck up. That I’ll never be good enough.

Jared Padalecki, everybody’s friend.

Just ask Jensen where that got him. Or Chad, you can ask him. Actually, no, maybe it’s not such a good idea to ask Chad. Chad will just tell you he doesn’t know anybody with that name, not anymore.

When I look in the mirror that’s above the dresser opposite my bed I’m afraid that Chad is right, but I don’t really recognise the person staring back at me either. I’ve still got my tan, kind of. But that’s more genetics than anything else and even then it’s like it’s been white washed out. And I’m vain enough to know my body is still everything it always was. As fucked up as I’ve been, the gym still allows me to switch off everything and be nobody, just a collection of muscles fed by blood encased in skin. 

The steroids were a one time only deal. Okay, twice, but that was years ago, this is all me. 

Sometimes it feels like it’s all I’ve got to show of me. 

My hair is a little longer than normal, because that’s how my last director wanted it and I was too busy celebrating the end of filming to bother with anything as mundane as a hair cut. It’s not like Chris’ though, which is longer than it ever was when he was working.

So if everything is still relatively me, why can’t I see me? Because for the first time in a long time I’m looking into my face and there’s no soft focus inducing drugs there to stop my eyes from staring back. The black rings that surround them are nothing new, I’ve listened to enough makeup artists bitch about them over the years, so I guess that means the sunken look is something I should have noticed before now as well. The wrinkles aren’t bad, but that’s what I pay people stupid amounts of money to stop, so that’s to be expected.

Really all in all, I could probably pass for a half way decent Jared Padalecki wax figure, because my eyes? Man, they’re fucking dead. No spark, no twinkle, no life, nobody home and they turned off all the lights before they left too. I remember Chad, or maybe it was Jensen, screaming at me once how they couldn’t figure out how I wasn’t dead. Right now it kind of looks like the joke’s on them, because I think for all intense purposes I am dead.

I don’t want to be, but I don’t know how to resurrect my soul either.

Because I get it now. It’s not about my career, it’s not even about Jensen, I can’t do this for him, and he sure as fuck can’t do it for me. It’s about me, fixing me.

And building Christian Kane a vegetable garden.

Which I can’t do if I don’t get out of bed. Any more soul searching is going to have to wait until I actually remember where I left mine. And until after I’ve had a shower and some coffee. 

Lots of coffee.

Before I turned up in Oklahoma, I don’t remember the last time it took me barely fifteen minutes to get ready, but that’s all it takes me now to be showered, dressed and downstairs hoping Chris has some kind of cereal I can eat for breakfast. Starting tomorrow though, I get up with Chris, start proving myself. To myself, mostly, but if I’m being honest, and it’s about time I was, I also want to prove myself to Chris.

I have no fucking idea why and there’s no way in hell I’m thinking about that now, or later for that matter.

When I get downstairs though, breakfast, coffee, proving myself and everything else that’s flittered through my mind this morning is completely forgotten. 

And it’s because of what I catch sight of through the large kitchen window.

Chris is out back by the exercise ring, where he is most mornings, or, at least, has been since I got here, but this time he’s not alone. There are people out there with him and the horses. Adult people. Children people. 

What the fuck?

The baseball cap I pull on as I head out the door isn’t a disguise, it’s just to keep my hair and the sun out of my eyes, the boots I put on have nothing to do with Rodeo Drive and everything to do with me not wanting to step in horseshit and fall on my ass. Not again anyway. But me heading towards Chris has everything to do with curiosity.

Chris is sitting on his four-wheeler, a kid that can’t be more than five in his lap. I can’t see if they’re a boy or a girl, all I can see are the black curls that Chris is threading his fingers through as the two of them watch everybody else with the animals. Two of the horses are saddled up with kids on board and being lead around the by a couple of the adults. Another adult is standing with the rest of the kids waiting their turn for a ride.

Is this what Chris does here? Has pony parties for kids? Because somehow that just doesn’t seem right.

Three steps later I see the way one little boy is sitting in the saddle, off to the left like he’s about to fall out. Two steps after that I realise he’s not sitting in the saddle, he’s strapped into it.

There are metal crutches with no owner against the rails of the yard.

That’s when I stop walking and really look at the kids gathered waiting their turn on what I teased Chris were the world’s most docile horses. When he didn’t laugh I thought it must have been because they had to be that way so he could ride them himself.

Ladies and gentlemen, is it any surprise Jared Padalecki has put his foot in his mouth again? Because even I can see that in one way or another the children are all disabled.

I should turn around and leave Chris be, because if he wanted me here, he would have mentioned it last night, right? And without an invite, what right do I have to be a part of it? I manage all of half a step backwards before Chris turns to look at me, like he knew I was there all along. There’s something in his eyes that I can’t read, there’s a knot in my gut that I can’t name, but when I start to walk forward again, Chris says nothing, just turns back to watch the riders.

When I get closer I can hear him, his voice so gentle as he speaks.

“That’s it, Andrew, just keep hold of the reins. See, Maddy, I told you could do it.”

Andrew is the little boy with legs that don’t work and he gives Chris the biggest smile I’ve ever seen. Maddy doesn’t seem to register that Chris spoke at all, but one hand is constantly stroking the horse’s mane.

When I’m standing beside Chris I realise that I have no idea how to act, or be, or what the fuck I’m supposed to say. I should have gone back inside when I had the chance, these people don’t give a fuck about Hollywood’s favourite Jared Padalecki and I think I’ve pretty much acknowledged this morning that I don’t know how to be anybody else.

“Hi!”

The child in Chris’ lap is a girl, with the most beautiful smile. And Downs Syndrome. She’s also waiting for an answer, Jared.

“Hi.”

God, that was eloquent. 

“My name is Gemma.”

Kneeling down, I feel like I’m smiling the first real smile I’ve used in months. My face feels more than a little strange.

“Hello, Gemma. I’m Jared.”

I don’t have to look at Chris to know he’s glaring at me right now, warning me that if I hurt this little angel, I’m going to end up as worm food. But I glance up and the look he’s wearing is actually worse than I expected. 

Why, of all the things I have to make right with the people in my life, is wanting Christian Kane’s approval even on the list? What in hell would I actually do with his admiration? But more than anything, I want him to actually have some kind of expectation of me…other than the one that says whatever else happens, I’ll always fuck up and fuck everybody over.

“Are you here to ride the horses too, Jared?”

“Ummmm-“

“Jared’s a friend of mine, sweetheart, he’s staying with me for a little bit. And I don’t even know if he can ride a horse.”

The smile on Chris’ face, directed at Gemma, not me, is nothing short of beautiful, and yeah, my mind is going places it can’t go. Just…can’t.

“I can ride a horse, but it’s been a while.”

A while, a decade or two, near enough, right? 

“Christian and I are going to ride soon.”

In all the time I’ve been here I’ve never actually seen Chris on any of these horses. Sure I’ve been an ass teasing him, but I honestly didn’t think he still rode. In fact, after seriously thinking about it, I would have said that Chris couldn’t ride.

“I can’t wait to see that, Gemma.”

Please tell me that was without any sarcasm. I didn’t mean there to be any, but shit, my track record kind of speaks for itself. 

You know what? No, I’m not going to put my foot in mouth, not in front of people that are obviously important to Chris, so I just smile at both of the people sitting on the quad bike before standing up.

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

And apparently there is. For the next hour the aids, Jane, Paula and Sarah, who recognise me but don’t say anything, have me leading horses, lifting kids and somewhere in there I found a Jared I hadn’t been in a while, because getting those kids to laugh, or, in Maddy’s case, smile by being the biggest dork imaginable makes me feel like I’m the king of the world.

When everybody has had a turn or six, Chris shifts Gemma off his lap, and onto the wheel of the bike while he struggles to his feet. From the look on Sarah’s face I’m not the only one that wishes he’d let us help him. He says something to Gemma that has her laughing, clapping and lighting up like Time Square. This is apparently a set routine with them, because Gemma doesn’t move as Chris limps over to the bigger horse, a stunning grey, and then using a rail on the fence as a booster he lifts himself into the saddle.

I feel like I’m watching something I shouldn’t be as he closes his eyes and seats himself properly in the saddle, but that’s not all I see - those infamous, tell tale beads of sweat are back as well. This is hurting him, but you wouldn’t know it as he kicks softly at the horse, leading it over to Gemma, and Paula, who’s waiting to lift the little girl into place in front of Chris.

“Ready, darlin’?”

“Go, Christian, go!”

In my mind’s eye I can see what those words would have meant to Christian more than a handful of years ago. He would have dug his heels into the belly of the horse and taken off at a full gallop to who knows where. Now though, it’s a gentle tap, a soft tug at the reins and something that barely makes it over a walk as he rides his horse around the exercise yard in lazy circles while one little girl thinks she’s as free as the wind.

The reason I turn away has nothing to do pity, at least not for Chris or the sweetheart on the horse with him, and everything to do with how little and insignificant I suddenly feel.

“You okay, Jared?”

Just when I thought I couldn’t feel any worse, I turn to find Jane placing her hand on my shoulder with concern in her eyes. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

We both know I’m lying, but I get the feeling she’s used to men that live on this farm telling her they’re fine when they’re anything but.

“You must be somebody important to Christian.”

What?

“How do you figure that?”

She smiles and tightens her grip just little before letting me go completely.

“Because you’re here for this. In the five years we’ve been bringing different kids out here, there have only ever been two other people visiting Christian. His cousin, Brandon, and his friend, David. You don’t have to be Einstein to work out how much they mean to him, so if you’re here now you must mean a whole lot to him as well.”

My head shakes from side to side. Yeah, how about no.

“I’m just a friend of a friend that needed somewhere else to be for a while.” And I’ll be changing the topic now. “What it is exactly that you guys are doing out here? I mean, I guess it’s something other than simple horse riding.”

“Yes, and no. It’s a kind of therapy for the kids, but it’s a different kind for each one of them. For Andrew, who has Cerebral Palsy, it is just simple horse riding, being able to do something just like all the other kids. Maddy has Autism and being with horse is something that just brings her out, even a little.” 

“And Gemma?”

“Gemma loves the horses, and riding. You can see her face right now, she thinks she’s flying when you and I both know she’s about as far from it as you can get. But as much as she loves all of that, she loves Christian more. And to be honest, I don’t know anymore if we bring her out here for her therapy, or for Christian’s.”

It takes so much for me not ask Jane what she means, pump her for all the information she can give me about Chris and I honestly think I would have lost the internal battle if Chris hadn’t spoken.

“Okay, Miss Gemma, it’s time for Old Mikey here to have some hay and a rest.”

Jane moves instantly to grab Gemma and fuck it, I’m moving as well, waiting until the girl’s are out of the way before going over to Chris.

“Bite my head off, break my nose when everybody is gone, I don’t care, but tell me how to help you without hurting you any more.”

Chris doesn’t say a word, just leads the horse to the fence then hands me the reins.

“Hold him steady, and…can you give me your hand, please?”

I can do that. Wrapping the reins around my fist, I reach my other hand out, bracing my arm to take as much weight as Chris will give me as he dismounts. His right leg is on the ground, but it gives out and thank god I have enough reflexes to get an arm around Chris’ waist before he ends up a pile of pain in the dirt.

“All they can see is my back and I’ll let go when you tell me you’re steady.”

Taking half a dozen deep breaths before he nods his head, Chris lets me ease back just enough that he can grab his cane and then I’m stepping back completely.

“I’ll take Mikey and his friend here into the barn.”

Untying the other horse, I lead them both back in the direction of the barn, it takes me close enough to the group getting ready to head back into town that I can say good bye, and honestly tell them I loved meeting them. I’m not sure how long I’ll be here, or how often they come out, but I’d love to see them again.

All of them.

When I get into the barn I remember I have no idea what to do now. I grew up in San Antonio for crying out loud, and despite what people think, Texas isn’t all farms and barns and I’ve never mucked out anything in my life.

“If you can just get Mikey in the stall to the left there and Julius in the one beside him, I’ll take it from there.”

Turning towards Chris, I’m to leave him to it when I get a good look at his face. Grey looks good on Mikey the horse, not so good on Christian the human.

“You told Jensen I’d be working for my keep, so how about just this once, you actually let me. Sit down, get off your feet and tell me what I have to do.”

“Jared-“

“Fuck, Chris, let me help. I know I’m useless, and you think I’m dirt, I get that, but I’m the only person here right now and you’re hurting. Are you so fucking stubborn that you’d chose pain over the chance to see me shovelling horse shit?”

“The stables don’t need cleaning, the horses just need to have their gear taken off, be brushed down and be put to bed with some food.”

I should have realised that he’d ignore anything that came even close to answering a question that might involve a hint of something personal. But I didn’t and it’s really starting to sting.

“Great, but listing it all off like that gets me nowhere, city boy remember?” 

So for the next hour I get direction Chris-style. Twice he ended up with the bridle dumped in his lap and me snarling at him to show me how to do it right instead of just telling me I was doing it wrong, and once I threatened him with the pitch fork, but in the end, the horses are all bedded down and Chris is looking slightly less like he’s about to throw up or fall over.

“Now was that so hard?”

Chris leans forward, bracing himself with his cane before he pushes himself upright.

“Yes, it was. You may be all about Texas, Padalecki, but you’re about as cowboy as somebody from New Jersey.”

What can I say? When he’s right, he’s right. But I really don’t give a fuck, because I feel pretty damn good.

~*~

~Christian’s POV~

I feel like I fell down a rabbit hole. I didn’t see a hole, and I sure as hell don’t remember any white rabbits, but that doesn’t mean I’m not confused anyway.

And it’s Jared that’s confusing me. 

I’m not going to lie, I was kind of hoping he would sleep through the kid’s visit this morning. 

It’s not that I expected him to be ignorantly horrified if he’d met them, it’s just that it’s hard for me to share this part of my life with anybody from the life I once had, and I don’t exactly know why. The first time Dave was here when the girls brought some of their students out to ride I wanted him to be somewhere else. He asked me if I was embarrassed about the kids or about him and, finally, asked me if I was embarrassed about myself. There’s nothing wrong with the kids, or with Dave, and maybe it was me, I didn’t know then and I still don’t know now.

I just know that when those kids are out here, I feel important again to somebody that’s not related to me either by blood or by choice and for whatever reason I don’t want that taken away from me.

Jared didn’t do anything to draw attention to himself, didn’t introduce himself as anything other than ‘just Jared’ and proceeded to do anything to get a reaction from the kids. God, Maddy smiled more today than she has in the six months she’s been coming out to ride. I don’t think he looked at Paula, Jane and Sarah other than just to ask what they wanted him to do next, and at the same time, he managed to make sure everybody knew it was still my show.

He reminded me of a guy I once slept with and hoped for something more from. Hell, for a while there the hopes I had were sky high. They ended up lower than dirt.

He’s sure as fuck not the same miserable shithead that went to bed in my spare room last night.

When we got back in from the stable, Jared asked if he could have first shower, then disappeared, leaving me, sitting at the kitchen table wondering what in hell is going on and if the Mad Hatter expected to show up anytime soon. Laughing to myself, I can’t help but smile - it’s been a good twelve months since I saw Rosenbaum. 

“Can I ask a question?”

Nope, there are no Mad Hatter’s, just my own personal Alice who I hadn’t realised was done with his shower and just behind me.

“Umm, yeah, sure.”

Gee, Christian, that sounded definite. Not. 

“Are you supposed to be riding? I mean, is it something you can do normally and today was just a bad day? Do you ever have good days? Or is it just me that has you in constant pain?”

“Just for future reference, Jared, that wasn’t one question, it was bordering on the fucking Spanish Inquisition.”

“Oh. Sorry. You don’t have to answer.”

When I move to stand up, Jared starts waving his hands in front of himself.

“Seriously, I’m sorry, it’s none of my business, just stay put and tell me what kind of sandwich you want for lunch. I’d love to be able to conjure up something like you do, but you don’t have the main ingredients for my speciality here.”

Oh, I have to ask.

“What’s your speciality?”

“Ordering in.”

The look on his face and delivery is so deadpan I have to laugh.

“I had to ask, right?”

“Yep, you did. So what do you want in your sandwich?”

Shifting to the edge of my seat again, I’m reaching for my cane.

“Think you’re up to making BLT’s while I have a shower?” 

I’ll probably end up having three showers today, but I seriously stink of horse and it’s not pleasant.

“Ahhh, yeah. But if you…don’t shower just because of me, I get that I’m not a house guest you have to be all polite and pleasant for.”

That’s one more thing we have to talk about. Fuck, if there’s one thing I’m not used to anymore, it’s talking.

“Jared, can you stop that, please? You’re not Cinderella, and I’m not some fucking ugly stepsister, at least I hope I’m not. I need a shower because as much as I love horses, I hate smelling like one…and because the heat help relax my muscles so the pain eases, okay? When I get back…I’ll answer your questions, and we’ll talk. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Give me half an hour then and don’t burn the fucking bacon.”

~*~

Thirty-five minutes later I’m heading back down stairs feeling a whole lot more human, and since I can’t smell burnt pig, I’m guessing Jared managed lunch okay.

“You want anything to drink with your food, Chris?”

He looks so out of place playing host in my kitchen, but Jared’s trying so the least I can do is try back.

“I made a pitcher of ice tea before everybody turned up this morning, so a glass of that wouldn’t go astray.”

Jared smiles at the mention of the tea, but it’s not quite right.

“You can…I’m the one with the alcohol problem, Chris, not you. If you want a beer, that’s fine.”

“Firstly, I like tea. Secondly, sometimes I have to take some fairly strong painkillers. Not all the time, and thankfully not that often, but sometimes there’s no way around it so I tend not to drink anything like I used to. And too much alcohol even with the weaker pain relief I do have to take kind of regularly would fuck up my stomach, and, well, I’ve already taken that trip once. It’s not pleasant so even I’m not stupid enough to do it again.”

Well there’s something that nobody else knew about, other than my doctor, and I didn’t really expect to be sharing my ulcer with Jared. He doesn’t press me for details or clarification though, he just keeps talking.

“Sit, Chris, I’ve got everything done. I’ll just grab the drinks.”

As I sit, a plate with two sandwiches is put in front of me, then Jared moves back and forth grabbing glasses and tea and finally his own lunch before he sits down opposite me.

One of his BLT’s is gone before I can even get half of mine down.

“You do know you’re no longer growing, right?”

Nodding as he finished his mouthful, Jared take a swallow of his drink before he answers me.

“I know, but…I like having my appetite back, Chris. In L.A., well I don’t seem to have much of one sometimes and I tend to live on protein shakes.”

“Because you know you have to eat but the drugs have taken away the urge to actually do so?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t say anything else, just goes back to his food. Because, seriously, what else would there be for him to say?

I get one and a half of my sandwiches down before I start to talk.

“Riley helped me find the most docile horses we could about twelve months after the accident. I had pretty much done everything I could with rehab by then and I was so fucking beyond hospitals that I was threatening to blow up every one in a hundred mile radius. At the time, I didn’t really know why horses, I just figured I had to do something with the land and with my time and cattle was too much of an upkeep and would have required people other than me to be here full time. But half a dozen horses, I could do that with a bare minimum of help. Of course Riley also wanted to stay here and help, but about a week later we both decided for the sake of our friendship, he should leave and I should not kill him. He did find me some people that would come out once every couple of weeks and do what I couldn’t. They still come out about once a month, and a little more in winter, but for the most part it’s just me. That’s important Jared, that it’s just me, that I can actually still do something that I can at least pretend is productive.”

Jared looks like he wants to say something, contradict me, but he’s getting his smarts back slowly but surely and he stays quiet.

“I loved the idea of horses, my doctor not so much. My pelvis is, well it’s a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces missing. It can’t stand the pressure that riding puts on it. One hundred percent pure stubbornness gets me through a half hour or so at a slow canter by myself, normally I can ride with Gemma without paying too dearly for it. My doctor tends to work on a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy. He knows I need to do it, but he’s also given up telling me that I’m not doing myself any favours either. Then again, he would also prefer I walked with crutches and not a cane so what the fuck does he know about anything?”

The soft snort of laughter catches me by surprise.

“Not much if he hasn’t realised that you are the most stubborn person I’ve ever met. Or heard about…or read about, or, you know-“

“I get the picture, Jared. But you know what? That stubbornness is pretty much the only reason I’m still here and walking in any way, shape or form so I’m not going to bitch about it.”

“I wouldn’t either.”

Now it’s my turn to stay quiet and not say anything that’ll break whatever truce we’re building on here.

“So, am I supposed to ride? Nope, but I do it anyway. Was today a bad day? Not really, but it wasn’t as good as it could have been. Do I have good days? That really depends on your definition of good. I think I do, but from your point of view, maybe not. Am I in constant pain, well, do you really want me to answer that one?”

Jared stopped eating when I started talking, and now he’s pushing his food away.

“Yeah, I do.”

I just nod.

“Yeah, I am. The good days mean I can move without biting through my tongue. The bad days mean I can’t get out of bed, but it hurts like fuck to stay there as well. My body is fucked, Jared. I’m walking with a cane while I can, because once arthritis kicks in, I’ll be in a wheelchair if I’m lucky.”

We’ll be glossing over the fact I’ve been told if I keep pushing myself as hard as I am that’ll be sooner over later.

“What helps? I mean, if you weren’t Christian Kane and thought help meant weakness, what would help?”

“Heat, the shower, hot packs, things like that. You don’t want to know about my heating bill in winter, I keep this place like a tropical island just so I can move. Massage helps, when I can bear to be touched, which I can’t always so I don’t try that as much as I probably should. Like I said, I try not to rely on pain killers too much, I know I get clumsy when I haven’t had enough sleep and falling down can fuck me for days on end. I guess what helps is knowing my limits and knowing how much I can push them.”

Or more to the point, being able to realise when I’ve pushed them too far.

“The night I arrived, and the day after, that was too far, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah, it was.”

“And today?”

Yeah, Christian, and today?

“I’m sore. I shouldn’t have ridden with Gemma this morning, but I couldn’t say no to her, and if I don’t take it easy for the rest of the day at least, well let’s just say I’m not as fun as I used to be when I’m stoned.”

“If I ask what can I do to help…will you actually let me?”

Maybe.

“What changed, Jared? You went to bed last night in what I’m presuming is your normal king of dickdom mindset, and today you aren’t.”

He goes so quiet that I think it’s his turn to avoid answering, or change the topic, but he takes one breath that seems to go all the way to his toes before letting it go as his body shudders.

“There’s a mirror opposite the bed I’m sleeping in…what am I saying, you know it’s there, this is your house. But when I woke up this morning I found myself staring into it. I didn’t recognise the person staring back but I knew enough to know I didn’t like him. I can’t help Jen and Dani, Chris, I can’t put them back together. I realise I’m partly, mostly, to blame for what happened, but I can’t fix them, and when it all comes down to it, it’s not up to me to do that anyway. But at the same time, it’s not up to Jensen to worry about me, or to fix me. I’ve made a fucking mess, and it’s about time I owned up to that and starting cleaning it up.”

I can’t help but wonder how many times Jen has heard Jared say exactly that, then I realise it doesn’t matter. The past is the past and of all people, I know it’s never coming back again and it really doesn’t mean shit. 

“I like the start you’ve made.”

The smile Jared gives me lights up his face, and it’s fucking incredible.

“You know what? I do too.”

“Does that mean you’re actually going to start my vegetable garden this afternoon?”

Part of me kind of hopes he says no. I can’t help thinking that when that garden is done Jared will leave, and I don’t want that, not yet. I also don’t want to examine why.

“Later this afternoon, yeah, maybe, but you’re looking grey again and I’d rather try and do something to help that right now. Can you…would you be okay with maybe seeing if I could try some gentle massage. I know you don’t sleep that well and I’d really like to do something to help.”

Let me count the ways that this falls into that infamous bad idea line of thought.

“Jared, don’t take this the wrong way, but, I’m a little funny about people touching me.”

As in I don’t like anybody doing it. Ever.

“Please, Chris? I feel like it’s my fault you’re not sleeping, and you look like shit most of the time. Whatever you’re doing helps it for about an hour or so, like the shower you took, then, fuck, this grey cloud swallows you.”

Dave calls it a fog but close enough.

“Okay, we can try, but you have to promise me if I say stop, you’ll stop and not ride me about it. I’m not used to this, any of this.”

Hell, I don’t even know what most of this is.

“I promise. Now go, do whatever you need to do, get whatever we need, I’m just gonna clean up down here.”

Two dishes, two glasses, a knife and a skillet take so much time to clean, don’t they? But I’m leaving him to it and heading back up to my bedroom, because if the truth be known, I need some sleep. I haven’t touched my Vicodin since Jared arrived and I’d still rather not, but if this doesn’t work I’m probably going to have to.

There are times when I hate my body, but there’s always going to be a drunk driver in California I hate a whole lot more.

Quarter of an hour later, I’m naked except for my boxers and laying face down on my bed with a pillow under hips to relieve the pressure when Jared comes in. There’s a very vain reason why I’m already in this position. What scars aren’t hidden by my boxers are mostly on the front of my body and yeah, they’re not pretty.

“Did you grab some oil or lotion or something?”

Turning my head to the side so I can look at him, I nod.

“It’s a heating cinnamon oil that a therapist made me buy a while back. I think she was also angling to be the one to show me how it worked. I have a new therapist now.”

His name is James, he’s shorter than me and still out weighs me by about thirty pounds.

“You never did like your partners overly forward, did you?”

There’s no arguing that.

“Nope. I like a bit of mystery and a little chase to my romance.”

Or I did. It’s been a very long time since I did anything that could be even vaguely related to romance.

Jared doesn’t say a word, just grabs the oil and sits down on the bed beside me as gently as he can.

“So, umm, tell me where it hurts and what I should and shouldn’t do. I really don’t want to end up hurting you more.”

That’s really not what I’m afraid of at this point, and what I am scared of just doesn’t belong to either of us anymore.

“When my hips get tight, or tighter, it screws with the muscles in my thighs and in my lower back and that’s when the real pain starts, but don’t go in too hard, yeah? Because I don’t know how this is going to go and I’d rather not have to punch you out in the first two minutes of this.”

Mostly because it’d take me a good three minutes to get up and turn around.

“You have to let me know if it’s too hard before the fists fly, but try and relax. Would it be so bad if you enjoyed this?”

With our history, yeah, it probably would be.

I don’t actually say anything out loud and Jared doesn’t speak again, just pours a little of the oil into this hands and rubs them together. The scent of cinnamon fills the air almost instantly and then Jared mutters something that sounds like ‘touching now’. It’s been six years since he touched me, and the second I feel that sensation again I realise I didn’t say he could come here just because I owe Jensen.

Christ, I am in so much fucking trouble.

Strong, long fingers start working at my lower back. Not pushing too hard, but at the same time, it’s a massage, not somebody just petting me.

“Is that okay?”

Fuck no.

“Yeah, it’s good.”

“Then how about you work on the relaxing thing?”

Right now, it would be a lot easier to work on the ballroom dancing thing.

I don’t answer Jared, but he keeps on working the muscles and every so often whispering, ‘Relax’.

Weirdly, that’s exactly what I end up doing. Even when Jared’s hands move to my thighs my eyes are closed and I’m focused on exactly nothing. Not his touch, not the pain and it feels amazing.

Right up until the peace shatters.

“Chris, can you roll over so I can get to the front of your legs?”

No.

The spasm has me sucking in air and I know Jared can feel the change in pretty much everything.

“What just happened? Did I hurt you? Chris, talk to me, please?”

There has to be another deep breath in, and slowly exhaled like every therapist I’ve had has taught me, before I can speak.

“My leg, the front of my legs-“

I don’t get any further before there’s a gentle smack to the back of my head.

“You have scars, so what? Those scars, all they are is physical proof of the fact you are king of the land of pig headedness and that’s not exactly new.”

But his next words are a whole lot more serious.

“Those scars, Chris, they’re there to remind you of what you survived, and you came through hell for a reason. They’re not ugly, they’re just part of you.”

That’s easy for you to say.

“You don’t know that, Jared, you haven’t seen them.”

“Won’t make any difference, Chris, I saw you with those kids today. There is nothing I could see that would make any difference, not after that.” 

“When the fuck did you learn exactly what to say, Padalecki? Never mind, don’t answer that. But can you help me roll over?”

Jared does more than help, he just wraps his arms around me and rolls me over all by himself, before adjusting the bed back to the angle my body prefers. Then he’s just taking his oil slicked hands to my legs again.

“Fuck, that feels good, Jay.”

The fingers working my quad misses a beat, before sliding over the scar tissue there and working that as well.

“That’s the first time you’ve called me that since I arrived.”

“This is the first time you’ve felt like the guy I knew as Jay.”

“Because we’re in the bedroom and you’re mostly naked?”

Stop this, Christian. Stop the conversation, stop the path it’s taking, stop the touching, just fucking stop all of it. It won’t be Jared that ends up hurt. It sure as fuck wasn’t last time.

“No, it’s not that. I just remember him being gentle.”

Amongst other things.

Fingers follow the line of a scar until they’re just under the leg of my boxers.

“I’ll be honest, Chris, I don’t remember a lot of gentle, I don’t remember a lot of anything. But I’d like to. Tomorrow I’d like to have the memory of kissing you right now.”

Those fingers aren’t massaging anymore, they’re petting, gently but surely.

“You know that’s probably a bad idea, right?”

“Christian, I don’t know much about anything anymore. I don’t know who I am, what I want to do, nothing. But one thing I am certain of beyond a shadow of a doubt is I want to kiss you. So it’s up to you. All you have to do is say ‘c’mere’ or ‘get out’.”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me ‘Christian’ since you arrived too. Fuck, Jay, c’mere.”

He doesn’t let me reach for him, just brings himself to my comfort level and covers my mouth with his. The hand on my thigh stays still, but the other settles into cupping my jaw, his fingers stroking at my jaw.

When my hand reaches around, fingers sliding into Jared’s hair I don’t hear the moan he releases, but the vibration of it has my mouth opening and searching for more. It’s not a long question, because Jared’s tongue is moving against mine within seconds of offering him the opportunity. Even when we have to breathe the connection is never broken, not completely.

I can’t believe I’d forgotten how good this guy could kiss. I don’t want him to stop. Not now, not ever and if there was anything that could scare the crap out of me, it’s that thought right there.

But I’m not the one that breaks the kiss, Jared is, though he doesn’t go far, just rests his forehead against mine close enough to breathe in every breath I exhale.

“Fuck.”

Yeah.

“Exactly.”

“What the fuck are we doing, Chris?”

My laugh is soft and resembles a snort.

“Fucked if I know.”

The answer I get is Jared’s lips against mine again for just a second, then his tongue lapping at them, just once.

“Do you want to know?”

Yes. No.

“Maybe? Jay, the timing couldn’t be worse, you know that, yeah?”

“Yeah, I know. But are we going to get another shot? Whether the timing is right or wrong, it’s still here, and I…I want, Christian. But what I want isn’t something quick, fast and forgettable.”

God, he doesn’t want much, does he?

“Jay, there’s been nobody worth remembering their name since I moved here, and your name is impossible to forget. I can’t promise anything, neither can you, but maybe we could just see what happens? Would that be all right?”

I can feel the nod of his head before there’s another snatch of a kiss.

“Yeah, that would be. Do you think you can sleep now, while I go see to your garden?”

This time my laughter is a loud bark that I don’t even try to smother.

“You’re joking, right?”

He expects me to sleep?

“Nope, I’m not. You need some fucking sleep, and I need to at least start this garden.”

If he starts it, that means he’ll finish it. 

Then he’ll leave.

God, getting ahead of yourself there, Kane? 

Any comment I was going to make is lost in a jaw cracking yawn.

“Just sleep, Christian. Just sleep.”

There’s still one hand on my thigh, and the other shifts to run through my hair. I don’t want to argue, I’m tired of arguing. Especially with myself. The last thing I do before I pass out is shift my hand just enough that it can cover the one of Jared’s resting on my leg. 

Sleep comes easier than it has in six years.

~*~

“Are you certifiably insane, Kane?”

“And hello you too, Boreanaz.”

I don’t think I want to have this conversation today. Next year, I could possibly do next year. But I’m sitting down, because for god only knows what reason, Dave and I don’t do five minute phone conversations.

“Christian, why the fuck would you invite Jared fucking Padalecki to come stay with you?”

Now I know I’m not a rocket scientist, but even I know that telling David I didn’t invite him is a bad idea. Jensen’s geographically close enough to Dave for bad things to happen. The visit my best friend in jail type of bad things.

“He needed somewhere to lay low for a while, Dave, that’s all.”

“So in other words, Jensen asked you to baby sit his ass, right?”

Fuck, why the hell do I suck so badly at lying? Especially to this guy.

“Jensen thought that maybe if he came down here for a while, he’d morph back into the Jared we could all recognise. He’s not taking anything he shouldn’t be, he’s not drinking and Paris Hilton has not followed him here like the bitch in constant heat that she is. David, I promised you a long time ago I’d look after myself and I’d never put myself into a position that would fuck up my life again. A list of rules was given to Jared before he arrived and they were hammered home again when he got here. So far, he’s sticking to them.”

“I wish you’d told me, Christian, instead of having hearing it from Steve who I ran into while we were wandering around the farmer’s market.”

Hearing that disappointed tone from David always makes me feel like I’m five and I’ve been caught stealing candy.

“Tell me, honestly, what you’re worried about, Dave, and I’ll do my best to convince you Jared won’t be the catalyst that paves my road to hell.”

And you never know, I might actually convince myself at the same time.

“Is he clean? Christian, I can’t handle you thinking the spots on your sofa are actually hundreds of mouths that are going to eat you alive ever again.”

Right there, folks, that’s the reason I don’t like to take painkillers stronger than Tylenol anymore. The fact the pain was very real, didn’t make my addiction to those little white pills any less real either. 

“The first night he arrived I went through everything he had on him, and a couple of days after that he went through his own special drying out routine. You know I don’t keep anything stronger than beer here alcohol wise and the Vicodin are so damn well hidden I don’t think I could get to them even if I wanted to. He’s clean and I’m not going back, David. You’re not the only one that can’t do that again.”

I know most people think stubborn is my middle name, but I’ve learnt the hard way that the best to avoid that slippery slope downward is not to stand on the edge of it in the first place.

“Okay.”

He says ‘okay’, but I hear ‘I trust you’ and yeah, if you think I’m doing anything that’ll upset that apple cart you’re sadly mistaken.

“And everything else, Christian? What about that?”

As close as I am to Steve and Jensen, there are things about me that only David knows, and ‘everything else’ falls completely into that category. 

It also falls under the heading of stuff I am trying like hell not to think about.

“I don’t know, David. I mean I do, but I don’t want too. Do I still want him? Yeah, I do. Am I going to take whatever I can get knowing he’ll leave sooner rather than later? I have no fucking idea. I want a life with somebody, I always have, but it’s not like I have a lot to offer anymore, so yeah, I just don’t know, Dave.”

I know I said the one thing guaranteed to set David off, so I’m not surprised when he starts to rant. 

“You are have no fucking idea how much you have to offer somebody, Kane. Fuck, you say that shit, knowing I hate it, but, at the same time, I know you only say it because you actually believe it. What exactly would it take for you to admit you’re still worthy of being loved?”

Well that question is new, and one I could have happily lived the rest of my life without hearing.

“Something not even the great David Boreanaz could intimidate into appearing.”

“Fair enough, but what is it? I want to hear you actually say it, Christian. What would it be? A whole body, your acting career back again? A recording contract? What?”

It takes an awful lot to keep the snarl out of my voice.

“All of that, and more. C’mon, asshole, think about what would happen if you woke tomorrow no Jamie, no Jaden, no Kyra and no chance of every having them. Or you have them, but you have no way of supporting them, giving them what they deserve, how the fuck would you feel?”

“It wouldn’t happen, Kane. Because I’d have this annoying prick of an Oklahoman in my face telling me there was no way I was giving up, and if I wanted it, all I had to do was reach out and grab it. You forget Christian, I’m the one person that knows about Jared, and how you feel…you want it, maybe here’s your chance to grab it.”

I don’t believe this.

“You hate the guy!”

“I never said that, Christian. I might have said I hate the way he lived his life and I know I said I hated the way you and he fuck around, but I never said I hated him.”

Tomayto tomahto if you ask me. 

“So now I have your blessing?”

“No, you stupid fuck, you have me in your face telling you if you want it, reach out and fucking grab it.”

I’m not growling any more, I’m laughing. Because its either that or cry.

“And what happens if I grab and he walks away anyway?”

“How the hell can he walk away if you don’t let him go?”

“I can’t keep anybody against their will, David.”

“That’s never been the problem with you, Kane. The problem has always been you have a bad habit of letting people go against their will and as you’re busy pushing them out the door, you’re slamming it shut behind them.”

What kind of left turn did I make when I answered the phone to have this conversation end up here?

“I have no idea why we’re talking about this, Boreanaz.”

“Because I’m the only one that can get away with this shit.”

Yeah, there is that.

“Christian, all I’m asking is just this once don’t try and fulfill your own prophecy. I know you, you’re already convinced Jared’s going to leave you, how about you don’t actually go out of your way to make that happen?”

“You wouldn’t rather I parted the Red Sea or something?”

“Brother, you’re a lot of things, but a saint isn’t any of them.” 

Leaning back, I let my head rest on the back on the sofa as I shift to ease the ache in my lower body.

“I’m tired of being alone, David.”

“I know, Christian.”

“Do you also know this scares the crap out of me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

The laughter this time is a lot easier.

“What no sage of great advice?”

“Nope all I’ve got is go for it. If it doesn’t work out, I’ll be there to get drunk with you. Nobody’s life comes with any guarantees. Don’t you remember getting drunk with me the night my divorce was finalised? I said I was never going to put myself in that position ever again, you just smiled and said I would when the time was right. I called bullshit. You were right, Christian, I was wrong and for being wrong I have Jamie and you are Jaden and Kyra’s favourite bad influence. I wish I could give you back everything that accident took from you, Christian, and some days I hate that I can’t. But you’re not dead, and if it takes Jared Padalecki to get you to start living again, believe me, I don’t hate him.”

“I don’t hate him either.”

“See, there you go, as a starting point, that’s always a good one.”

“Don’t try and out smart mouth me, Boreanaz, I’d hate to have to make you cry.”

“Oh please, how long have we been friends? Sweetheart, you have nothing that I haven’t seen. Twice.”

When Jared comes inside ten minutes later I’m laughing and insulting the Catholic boy’s favourite sexual position. He looks at me like I’ve grown two more heads…and horns. He just smiles, shakes his head and mutters something about children, and separate corners, but he also brings in two cold glasses of tea when he sits down beside me.

I could get used to this. And maybe, just maybe, I’m not the only one.

~*~

That sound you can hear is the universe laughing until it pukes. And it’s laughing at me. At, not with, that’s a very important detail. 

After David’s phone call, after falling asleep with Jared, part of me was actually starting to believe that this, whatever this is, could be doable. 

There’s just one little problem. Jared.

Because he is so not with the program. No, he’s building a fucking vegetable garden like his life depends on it. Or like it’s his ticket out of here. He’s spent the last few days digging holes, setting posts, I think there’s a load of soil arriving tomorrow. Basically he’s spent the last few days avoiding me.

He’s spent most of the nights doing that as well.

‘Grab it’ Dave tells me. How the hell do I grab something that’s never in fucking reach? Jared’s gardening, I’m sitting here on the back porch swing, and yeah. Can somebody please explain to me why I miss the closeness that was possibly only in my head to begin with?

And to top it all off, I’ve pushed myself too hard while I was trying to convince Jared I could do everything that needed to be done all at once. Congratulations, Christian, once again you’ve won the idiot of the month award.

Nobody would actually know if I just gave up, would they? Well, nobody apart from Dave and while he won’t be happy about it, he won’t kick me to be curb either. 

“Chris? You okay?”

Jared’s suddenly in front of me and I’ve got my mouth open when I realise I’m about to lie.

“Not so much, no. How goes the garden?”

There that’s better.

“I’ve done as much as I can right now.”

“Okay, cool.”

And that’s about as far from better as you can get.

“Can I get you anything, Christian? Some kind of pain pill or something?” 

“No, but maybe you could get us both a cold drink and stop fucking avoiding me for five minutes, that’d be nice.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Well, he didn’t deny the avoiding. I just don’t know if that’s a good thing or a very, very bad thing.

Or nothing at all.

But when he comes back a few minutes later he hands me one of the two cold cans of soda he’s got before sitting down on the swing beside me. There’s no touching, but I can feel his heat and I’m sad enough that that makes me feel better.

“I’m sorry.”

Better didn’t last for long.

“What for?”

I’m tired and I need to be sure I understand something that’s happening here.

“For avoiding you.”

Whoopee, I was right.

“So what did I do wrong? You wanted me to blow you instead of fall asleep on you after the massage? You didn’t like how I cooked you steak? C’mon, Jay, I think I deserve some kind of reason as to why you suddenly can’t stand me.”

“Fuck, Christian, it’s none of that. It’s not you-“

“If the next words out of your mouth are ‘it’s me’ I’ll fucking stab you with my cane.”

“Yeah, well, it is me, or more to the point, my reaction to you. You tilt my entire world on its ear and that’s a little unnerving.”

“Tell me about it! You’re losing your mind if you think that’s just you, Jared. I had this so called life out here. My horses, my existence and in walks some fucking Texan that leaves a wake behind him that changes everything. I knew what I wanted, Jared, or I thought I did. Now, I have no fucking idea. Unnerving is one word for it.”

Though I probably would have chosen a slightly stronger one. Something like nuclear implosion could work.

“I never thought that much about anything. I’d kind of go one day at a time, or you know, one party, possibly one drink. I don’t get what’s so special about you that I wonder about next week. Or what the fuck’s going to happen when that damn garden is finished.”

“Yeah, well, I don’t fucking know what happens when you finished that damn garden either! Do you seriously think this is any easier for me? My days used be pretty much of a muchness, and you basically screwed that all to hell. If there’s a comfort zone, or neutral ground for us, I think it’s safe to say we’re still looking for it!”

“Do you want to find it?”

Talk about being straight to one point and ignoring the twenty seven other pointy things that threaten to stab us in vitally important places.

“Honestly? I don’t know, Jay. But I know you’ve got me wondering about things I haven’t considered in years.”

“That makes two of us.”

Jared goes quiet then, staring at the top of the can of drink in his hand like it can give him the answers I can’t.

“Do you ever think about having kids, Chris?”

Thank god Jared’s not looking at my face. I’ve seen the look of shock I know I’m wearing before and it’s not pretty. 

“Not recently.”

Go on, Christian, tell him this is the one topic nobody ever brings up around you, ask him to back off.

I get as far as opening my mouth before Jared continues.

“Why not? I know you’re not strictly gay, though calling you bi seems wrong for some reason that I couldn’t explain if you held a gun to my head. But I mean you could find a girl, have six kids. Or if you didn’t want to find a girl, find a guy and have them by surrogate, or adopt them. Watching you with the kids that come out here to ride the horses, they’ve all got you twisted around your finger, but man, that little cutie, Gemma? She owns you. As in the deed to your soul is in her back pocket.”

Why aren’t I walking away? That’s what I always do whenever this subject comes up. Find something else to do somewhere else as quickly as I fucking can. Yet one Jared Padalecki starts in on it and I’m actually considering talking about it? I don’t think this is what my family meant when they suggested I look into seeing a therapist. And I doubt even Dave would think this was going for it.

I guess I must have been quiet too long, because Jared stops staring at the can and turns to face me. Like I said, I know what he sees.

“Chris? Fuck, what did I say?”

Tell him you’ve got to go feed the animals, Christian. Move. Don’t say something you can’t take back.

“One of the legacies of the accident is I can’t father children, Jared. I’m probably lucky they didn’t have to amputate everything.”

Though I think the word would have been castrate when it comes to that particular appendage.

“You mean you can’t, or that you *can’t*?”

After days of nothing but ‘pass the salt’ are we seriously talking about this? 

“You know I was half way to hard when you were rubbing my legs the other day, everything works just fine. Or it does now, but my testes were damaged and I have a sperm count of absolutely nothing.” 

“What do you mean it does now?”

Why does he look so horrified? It was a long time ago, and it was my manhood was all happening to.

“Jared, what’s the big deal? When the accident first happened they were worried about my legs ever being able to work again, the function of my cock didn’t even come up for two months. Then it took another four or five months for it to actually come up so to speak. At the time it was pretty much the least of my concerns.”

Or I made sure everybody else thought it was. Nearly everybody actually brought it too.

“I can’t imagine that.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve given your cock a fair work out over the years I guess you would be lost if you had to go months without getting hard.”

And there’s the something I can’t take back.

Fuck.

Jared just blinks before turning his head away from me to stare out at nothing.

“I’m glad you’ve got me pigeon holed as a slut, Chris. I guess that makes the whole ‘does he like me’ thing a lot easier for you than it does for me.”

“Nothing about you is easy for me, Jared. If it was I wouldn’t be telling you I can’t father children, I’d be telling you to fuck off because I don’t talk to anybody about this, ever. And I don’t think you’re a slut…at least not when you’re sober. When you’re drunk or high, let’s just say I don’t think you make the best judgment calls about where you put your penis. But if I’m being totally honest, Jay, do I think you’re an utter idiot for trying to piss away a career that I would have sold my soul to have? Yeah I do.”

Since I’m doing the whole putting it all on the table thing, there’s something else that has to be said.

“But you know what? It’s your career, your life, fuck who you want, piss it all up against the wall if you want too, you don’t owe me anything. What happened before you landed on my doorstep is none of my business. If whatever we have changes from here on in, then yeah, what happens away from this piece of land might become my business, we’ll deal with that when and if we need to. But you know what absolutely has to change? You fucking around with Jensen and Danneel’s life. He’s your best friend; I get that I have one of those too, but you’re going to cost him his wife and baby and that’s not right. Then again, Jen should have big enough balls to tell you to fuck off and look after what’s his as well. Because as much as he loves you, you aren’t supposed to be at the top of the priority list. From where I sit you’re both at fault for the mess that’s been made of everything, but you can fix it all by yourself.”

“I shouldn’t rely on Jensen as much as I do.”

No shit, Sherlock.

“You’re not married to him, Jared.”

“Why aren’t you married?”

I’ve never had a conversation before that could actually give you whiplash. And I’m over trying to have one right now.

“Why do you care, Jared? The last time I saw you before you turned up on my doorstep in the middle of the night was in a hotel room that had both of us laying on tangled come soiled sheets…well, it was both us until you realised we’d just fucked and you might actually have to face me again, all sober like. Watching you almost break your neck getting out of that room and away from me would have been funny if I wasn’t lying on the bed still half hard and wondering what the fuck had just happened.” 

It’s kind of weird how that description fits the last night we were together and the last night Jared actually, vaguely, remembers us being together. 

No, they aren’t one in the same.

“I couldn’t stay, you weren’t some nameless fuck. And you made me feel things, even then.”

“I wasn’t anonymous when we walked into the motel rooms either, but that never seemed to bother you when it was before the sex happened.”

Yes, I’m ignoring the part about making him feel. The only thing I ever made him feel back then was horny, and that doesn’t exactly put me in a club with an elite membership. 

“That was the thing, I couldn’t stay away from you either.”

If I was waiting for him to cross the line from fact into fantasy, I don’t have to wait any more. Jared just leapt over it like an Olympic long jumper but without any of their grace, though he did still manage to land on his ass. I’m trying not to end up on mine as I pull myself up letting my cane be the third leg I need.

“I’m going to go feed the horses, Jared, do whatever the fuck you want to.”

Jared gets to his feet, but let’s face it, there’s no need to chase after me, I’m only about six steps away.

“Hey! What the fuck did I say? Come back here. I thought we were having a real conversation, an adult one even.”

One foot in front of the other, Christian, slowly, steady, take your time.

“We were, or I was. You took a turn into Jared’s world of make believe and there’s too much to be done around here for me to be visiting a place that smells of bullshit. I have a barn for that.”

He still standing on the porch steps as he starts to yell at me. Just one more time, thank god I don’t have neighbours.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Again, I know I should shut up, that I’ll say too much, but I’m so fucking tired of biting my tongue. There’s a reason I moved to Norman when all of my family and friends live somewhere else.

“You couldn’t stay away from me? Is that the kind of delusional shit you tell yourself? We fucked three times and I haven’t seen you in over six fucking years. Yeah, right, I’ve completely got you spellbound, I can tell.”

My temper in swarming in front of me like killer bees. It’s not a red haze, it’s pissed, buzzing and ready to sting. I guess that’s why I don’t realise what I’ve said until Jared speaks.

“Three times?”

Oh fuck me.

Of course it’s now that I can’t find my voice, that couldn’t have happened two minutes ago, could it?

“What do you mean three times?”

Jared hasn’t moved, but even I’m not stupid enough to not to realise that quiet and kind of calm tone to Jared’s voice is nothing more than wilful control.

“I don’t mean anything, it’s nothing. Just forget I said anything at all, it’s not important.”

I really do have to feed the animals, and I have to do it soon, because like I said, I’ve pushed lately and suddenly I’m still stubborn enough that I really don’t want to show Jared any more physical weakness than I already have. So without saying another word, I calmly turn around and take all of two steps towards the barn.

“Fucking hell, Kane, don’t you walk away from me! Whatever you’re talking about involves me, and I think I have a right to know!”

For as much shit that has come out of that man’s mouth, I really can’t believe he just said that. 

And I’m not turning around.

“Jared, do not fucking start in on what you do and do not deserve. How about you think on this for the rest of fucking forever? If you hadn’t been so fucked up the few times we were together you’d know what I was talking about. If I had been anything to you other than just another cheap, easy lay maybe you’d want to remember. But you don’t, and I was, so I think it’s fair to say that what we deserve has fuck all to do with what we actually ended up with.”

Walking away isn’t easy, literally or figuratively, but I’m doing it. One foot in front of the other with more than a little help from my cane, but it keeps me going in the direction I want to, away from Jared, so whatever.

“I’m not done with this topic, Chris!”

Too fucking bad.

“Then I hope you enjoy talking to yourself, because I am.”

This wasn’t how going for it was meant to turn out. I was hoping for a lot more making out and a whole lot less yelling.

As soon as I’m inside the barn and out of sight, I’m leaning hard against the wall, my hands shaking and my mind spinning like a tilt-a-whirl stuck on ‘go faster’. And it’s heading the one place I don’t want to go, memory lane.

I don’t remember the actual accident, or much of the day before it for that matter. I was never allowed to see what was left of my truck. I remember snatches of the days after, beeping, that fucking horrible hospital smell. Things like Momma crying, Daddy praying, Jenny bitching me out like only a big sister can. Then there’s the sound of Steve and Dave’s voices, but not their actual words. Doctors, tubes, needles, pain. God, I remember the pain so much that sometimes I think it’s the only real memory I have and everything else comes from what everybody has told me, that I’ve just adopted their recollections as my own.

Of course, the lack of memories never translated into a lack of nightmares about it all, but thankfully, they’re few and far between these days.

But out of everything I don’t remember my mind has chosen to have a crystal clear image of two hours spent with Jared. Of him, drunk, or high, or something. I’m not proud of the fact I wanted him enough not to care how he came, but I did. I remember the sex, the words, before, during and after. I remember the leaving, Jared’s then mine. 

Then nothing. Well nothing other than those snatches of other people’s lives as I almost lost mine.

Nobody knows where I was that night, that much I do know, mostly because it’s always been the one question about my accident I’ve always lied about.

‘I don’t know.’

Which is okay, because the person I was with doesn’t know either.

My hands are still shaking as I push off the wall, walking towards the horses, talking to them quietly as I do what needs to be done. I can’t do what I used to with these animals, what I always planned to when I had enough money to pick and chose how I spent my time, but I can do this. I can look after them and I can look after me.

Jared’s just gonna have to look after himself tonight.

~*~

~Jared’s POV~

As Chris walks away I have the sudden urge to channel my inner two year old and throw the temper tantrum from hell.

It won’t get me anywhere, I know that, but there’s so many different emotions fighting with each other, and what’s left of my will, to break free that all I want to do is scream until the sound stops.

Why don’t I know what to do next?

Yeah, and if that thought doesn’t point out how much of a man I haven’t been for the better part of the last ten years nothing will.

The truth is, I don’t know what to do because I never cared enough to figure it out.

Wow, I’m so proud.

Okay, Jared, it’s time to face it like the man you may actually be becoming.

I’m scared. 

And I don’t know how to tell Chris that. 

I don’t know how to tell him I know he’s sacred too.

Maybe we’re not afraid of the same things, but maybe those fears aren’t as unrelated as we probably think they are either.

But I know we’re both wondering what happens when Chris’ carrots are planted.

Right now though, I need to decide if I go after him.

The realisation of ‘no’ comes from nowhere in particular but I know I have to listen to it. When Chris cools down, and I fire up, maybe we can talk.

Maybe by then the same nowhere that told me not to follow Chris will have come up with some more answers for me.

Or not.

I guess I’m on my own tonight.

~*~

~Christian’s POV~

I’m not a big fan of change. Mostly because it’s never really brought anything I’d actually enjoy happening on the odd occasion it has strolled through my life. And I’m beginning to wonder if ‘Jared’ doesn’t mean change in some language you have to be twenty feet tall to comprehend.

Nothing’s been the same since he arrived, not my house, not my routine, not the days the kids come out. There isn’t one aspect of my life that Jared hasn’t managed to alter in one way or another. 

But in some weird way, he’s made it feel like a life again, instead of an existence.

And it never felt like an existence before he arrived.

There just isn’t a measurement high enough for me to explain how much that fucking scares me, and yet there’s nothing on earth that could get me off this ride either. It’s like when the carnival came to town once a year on what always seemed to be the hottest summer night ever. You’d go on every ride, eat too much, laugh until you were sick and you didn’t stop from when gates open until the fireworks had lit up the night sky because you knew that tomorrow the carnival would be in somebody else’s town. You’d just have to wait until it was your time again, until the hottest night of the summer – next year. 

Jared’s my carnival right now. I’m getting longer than one steamy July night, but make no mistake about it, he will end up in somebody else’s town. So I’m going to take every ride I can, taste everything put in front of me and worry about everything else later.

You know, after the fireworks.

I did try to say I was sorry after the fight, argument, what the fuck you wanna call what Jared and I got into the other day. Jared tried to say he was sorry as well. It’s kind of weird, because neither of us failed, but we didn’t exactly succeed either. I think what happened is we ended up filing it all away in the not now, not yet basket. We both needed time, I guess. Me to get over talking about the fact the Kane name dies with me always leave me feeling like my skin’s been attacked with a cheese grater. And Jared, well, I’m not exactly sure what he needed his time for, but I’m the last person that’s going to begrudge him needing it.

So, at some point in the last week, during the time taking and undeclared truce it was wordlessly decided, amongst other things, that if I’m going to cook, Jared’s going to clean up. It might’ve been about the time I’d dropped the third dish in ten minutes because I’d been on my feet too long, but that could just be coincidence. Or at least that’s what I told myself at the time. That’s where Jared’s been while I’ve been thinking too hard, finishing the dishes. He’s done now and here he comes in with two cups of coffee, sitting gently down beside me.

I think that time given is just about time up.

“What’re you over thinking now, Christian?”

Yeah, I doubt this is the time to mention the whole carnival analogy, so I just shift enough to let Jared get comfortable around me.

This is also how it’s gone for the last week or so, Jared quietly following my lead. There’s been a little touching, even the odd kiss or two here and there. The fact there hasn’t been more is more than likely all down to…me.

“Nothing, I’m good. Did my kitchen survive you and your attempts to clean up?”

Are you going to let me change the topic?

“Yes, your precious kitchen is all clean and everything is in place, Oh Great Anal Keeper of the Knives.”

That’s a yes on the whole changing of the topic thing then. But now that it’s allowed to be changed I really don’t know where else to go so I just settle for taking a mouthful of coffee.

“Christian?”

“Hmmm?”

I’m paying attention, honest.

“I want to talk to you, can you put down the coffee?”

Now I’m honestly paying attention and trying not to shake as I put the cup back on the table.

“What’s on *your* mind, Jay?”

“Tell me about the night I don’t remember? Please?”

Why is it I can never even come close to guessing what’s about to come out Jared’s mouth? All in all, this is one topic I would’ve appreciated a little warning about. A flashing neon sign would have been nice.

But it shouldn’t a total surprise he’d want to know though, should it? That doesn’t mean I’m just going to tell him though.

“Why? Seriously, Jay, why? We’ve managed to move past duty and truce and on to something that could actually be something that nobody else has a part in except us. Why do you want to bring totally irrelevant ancient history into it?”

Somewhere in all the over-analysing of everything I’ve been doing lately I realised that I’m glad Jared doesn’t remember that night. I don’t want him hurt and there’s no way I can get out of this conversation without there being pain. It’s different when that pain isn’t mine.

“That’s exactly why I want to know! Because there is something here, and could be something special. But for the first time in a very long time I want to meet somebody I care about as an equal and I can’t do that if you already know more about us than I do. We can’t do it if we already have secrets, and whole parts of our lives that we can’t talk about, Chris.”

Just fucking great. He picks now, and this topic, to get all logical on me. 

“I don’t know that much more.”

God, Christian, that was a pitiful excuse for something. I’ll get back to you when I work out exactly what.

As he lifts one eyebrow at me, I’m guessing Jared wouldn’t have too much trouble agreeing with my self-evaluation.

“You do realise that all you’re doing is convincing me that something important happened that night, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck.

Reaching out, I grab Jared’s hand, lacing my fingers with his. This isn’t something I’ve done a lot of, initiating the touching. Jared’s so much better at it than I am, but I need it.

And in just a few words I’m going to need it more.

“You…you have to be sure you want to know, Jared, this is one of those things I can’t take back or undo. I’m not saying anything happened, well not with us, exactly, but…fuck. Just make sure you’re certain.”

Tightening his fingers around mine, Jared leans forward just enough to press his mouth against mine. It’s not a kiss, maybe it’s a promise, or perhaps it’s just the best way he knows to get me to stop talking and take a breath. If it’s the last one he’s going for though, that mouth touching mine isn’t his best option.

“Tell me.”

Taking a deep breath, I lean back against the sofa before closing my eyes. I don’t need to see Jared’s reaction to this to know what it’ll be. 

“I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t remember that much. I only know I ran into you at Steve’s show because Steve’s told me, but I knew we’d met up somewhere, because otherwise we wouldn’t have been in that motel room together. You were drunk, I think, I wasn’t exactly sober. There was sex, there was argument, things were said that had to be said, but should have been said some other time…and you left.”

I stayed just long enough to get angry. Very, very angry.

And more than a little hurt.

“What…what was said isn’t what you don’t want me to know, is it?”

“No. Because it’s been said before, and again. Every time we’ve fucked we’ve fought, and every fight has been a variation on the same theme. Grow up and sober up is pretty much what I said, what you always retorted was have some fun, live a little. You know, you’re too old to act that childish, and I’m too young to be that damn old, that kind of thing.”

This time when a hand squeezes it’s me. 

“Tell me,” is what Jared whispers as I do it. 

“I don’t remember anything else, Jay, that’s it.”

“Why not? You just said yourself the fight was nothing special, why would you need to get so drunk you forgot?”

Deep breath, Christian, you can do this.

“I didn’t get drunk, Jay. I got hit by a truck.” 

Yeah, now I’ve done it all right.

“You…that was the night of your accident?”

All I can do is nod and close my eyes a little harder. Just because I don’t remember the accident doesn’t mean I can’t imagine the sounds, the smells and the pain is something I’ll never forget.

“I was with Jensen when he got the phone call from Steve. I was with Jensen! How could I have just left you?”

“From what I can figure out, you’d been gone an hour or so before I left the motel and Jen wasn’t told about the accident until noon-ish the next day. Dave is, was, my emergency contact in L.A., he had to call Momma, we think he called Steve, and they both kind of forgot about Jensen until the next day. Maybe Jensen knows if you went straight to him, but you’d have to ask him that.”

“Do…was it my fault?”

His voice is so quiet, it gets me opening my eyes where a yell never could.

There are tears threatening to fall when I finally look at Jared.

“No. I was mad, hurt, and maybe I wasn’t paying attention the way I should have been. Possibly I could have done something if I’d seen the pickup coming at me a heartbeat quicker, but when it all boils down to it a drunk driver ran a red light and there are no maybes or possiblys that would change that part of this story. It’s not your fault.”

“If I’d stayed-“

“Jared, when it comes to how we’ve met and collided over the years, the ifs both of us could have changed along the way are almost endless. But we didn’t and here we are. Christian Kane, the ex-actor, ex-singer permanently disabled rancher of nothing and Jared Padalecki-“

“Actor, publicity hound, slut, drying out alcoholic and pill popper.”

I can’t twist toward him any more than I already am, but I can, and do, reach my hand out, stroking it over his hair before moving down his face and along his neck.

“I think this Jared guy’s a little more than that.”

“I know that Christian guy is more than a nothing farmer.”

The touch along my lower lip couldn’t be any gentler.

“Christian, baby, if neither of us remember our last night, do you think we could have another first night, one that will be unforgettable?”

Yes. Fuck, yes.

“Jay, I haven’t been with a guy since you, and I’m not telling you that to make you guilty so please don’t look like that, I’m telling you because my body’s different now, and there are things I can’t do. I don’t know how the mechanics of it all are going to work.”

Now there’s a world class mood killer.

Except that the smile on Jared’s face is more mischief than miserable.

“I’m all for exploration, Christian, and you have this bed that does things and I’m fairly sure we can get you in a position for me to be riding you hard and fast without too much trouble. All you have to do is lay back, enjoy and let me play…that won’t be too hard will it?”

Hard? No. Selfish? More than likely.

“What about you? It can’t be all about me.”

“It can tonight, and after that, well we’ll work it out as we go along. Now, is there anything you need to do down here?”

“Umm, no.”

I wouldn’t care if there was.

Letting go of my hand, Jared stands up and grabs my cane. He doesn’t offer to help as I pull myself up, he’s already learnt that there are some things that are just easier to let me do alone. But what he does do is place a hand on my lower back before ducking his head to nip at my neck.

“I want to go get everything ready, tell me where I can find some lube and condoms and by the time you get to the bedroom it’ll all be good to go.”

Fuck, Houston we may have a problem.

“I’m not sure I have any, lube I mean. Maybe you’ll find something in the guest bath we can use, I don’t know. I mean, I hope you fucking do, but, yeah. Condoms I don’t have, but you do. They’re one of the only things you packed, remember? I don’t bring anybody home, Jay, if there’s an itch to be scratched I do it somewhere else so I can always make the excuse of needing to go home. And those that want to help me with the itching tend to have their own supplies.”

The fingers that slide over my hip are gentle as they pet.

“I’ll see what I can find, and try and remember where I threw those condoms. I don’t want to go bareback with you, not now, not until…”

So don’t want to be even thinking about that right now, it doesn’t belong here.

“After tonight you can make a trip into town to get whatever else we might need, like proper lube. But can we think about all of that later? Tomorrow. You know, after?”

“After’s good. Because the only thing I want to do tonight is concentrate on us being ourselves and ending up sated. I’ll see you in your room.”

I swear to God he just bounced up the stairs. But I don’t envy his energy and the hyper gene that is pure Jared, mostly because it’s just nice to see it back. My trek has no bounce, but it has a whole lot of determination and when I get to my room Jared’s got some jazz music playing, low and sultry in the background, and the lights are dimmed down so that everything is bathed in teasing shadows. He’s also got himself sitting on my bed wearing nothing but a pair of boxer briefs that are outlining his half hard cock perfectly.

“We have to figure out a way that I can suck that.”

The direction I’m staring makes it very obvious exactly what I’m talking about.

“We will, if not tonight, there’s always tomorrow. But right now though, I want to get you naked and on this bed. Can I help or is easier if I just sit here and pant while you do the honours?”

Somehow I think I’ll be the one that ends up panting.

“It’ll be easier if you just watch I think, for tonight at least. Jared, the scars, you’ll see when I’m naked they’re worse than just what’s on my legs.”

He’s off the bed and in my face before I can blink, wrapping handfuls of my hair around his fists until his palms are pressed against my skull.

“Do you know what those scars mean to me? That you’re here, that there is nobody alive that deserves to be here more than you. They’re proof of how strong you are. And at the same time, they show me how fragile you are. They’re not ugly, they’re just another part of the Christian that’s here with me right now, but only one part no more, no less. So I’ll love touching them as much as I’m going to love touching the rest of you. It’s our new first night, Christian, remember? I don’t know you any differently.”

Just once I kiss the chest in front of me. He’s so warm and he tastes so good.

“Then get back over there and watch. You can learn how we’ll do this together later, this first time, I need to show us both that I can.” 

Ducking his head again for what I think is going to be another kiss, Jared instead nuzzles at the spot where my throat meets my shoulder biting softly at the muscle there before licking over a mark that, for the moment, exists only in his mind. But then gently, he makes sure I’m okay before backing back to sit on the bed again.

I can’t help noticing that his cock is a little fuller now and I have to admit, I like it.

Now though, now comes the part that’ll be harder than any of the practicalities of sex will be tonight. Letting Jared see my body and my limitations.

There’s a huge wing backed chair in the corner on the other side of the bed and that’s where I’m headed, Jared just smiles then crawls across the bed so he still has a full view of everything. As I sit down, I take one deep breath reminding myself that this will be worth it, whatever happens, I start by toeing off the low work boots I tend to wear nowdays.

You try taking off cowboy boots when you can’t reach your feet and your hips don’t allow your feet to reach you.

My socks come off fairly easily as well. I’m fairly practiced at doing this by standing on the end of my sock with one foot and pulling the other one backward. Skipping my jeans for the moment, I take the time to lift my head and look at Jared. His eyes are dark and his mouth is open just enough that I can hear his breathing and how it’s gathering speed. I’m still watching as my fingers move to the buttons of my shirt undoing them one at a time until I can pull off the button down revealing the tight t-shirt underneath. I’m vain enough to know my upper body still looks good, not what it was, but there’s no middle aged spread yet either.

“You’re teasing, Christian.”

“Yeah, I am.”

Denying it would be a waste of time and oxygen.

“Then keep going.”

Grabbing hold of the bottom of the shirt in a matter of seconds it’s gone.

“Fuck me, you look good, baby. Keep going, I want you on this bed and under me and fuck, I want it before I end up jerking myself off while you watch.”

Just imagining Jared doing that has me shuddering and my stomach bottoming out.

“What if I’d like that?”

“Then I’ll do it for you, later, tomorrow, sometime, but not tonight. Tonight’s theme is together, we can pencil in different themes some other time.”

I wonder how many I’ll get before you leave? 

“Christian? Those jeans need to go.”

Jared has no idea what’s lurking in my head and I’d like to keep it that way so my hands go to my jeans and my gaze drops to my legs. The button gives easily, the zip sounds too loud but I can do this. My hands are used to sliding under layers of denim and cotton at the same time as pushing them down my hips.

“Christian?”

“I know. It’s just there’s no grace in me getting my pants off.”

I’m not looking at him, right now I just can’t.

“Hi, I’m Jared Padalecki and about as graceful as a balloon full of jello…we have met, yeah?”

“You sell yourself short, Jay, the body you have gives you a certain amount of fluidity even when you’re tripping over fresh air.” 

“Look at me.”

It takes almost a minute, but I do.

“I slept with Christian Kane six years ago, and seven years ago, and probably ten years ago, but I didn’t really know him. I couldn’t have told you anything about him that didn’t come from IMDB and Jensen. But you, I know you cook the best steak I’ve ever eaten, though if you ever tell my Momma I said that I’ll deny it to my dying breath. I know there’s the sweetest six year old on the planet that thinks you hung the moon, you push yourself harder than anybody else ever could, you’re strong, loyal, stubborn beyond a fault and you want a vegetable garden. I know you so much more than I knew that guy back then so from where I sit there is no comparison. You’re the one I care about, now can I please have the chance to show you that?”

My elbows dig into the arms of the chair, lifting my hips up as I push the clothing down, when its past my ass, I sit back down and push everything to my knees, that’s when my feet take over and get everything gone.

My eyes never left Jared’s once, and if anything, his get darker, the heat in them deeper. He still wants.

“You so need to get over here, but before you do, tell me what are the limitations of your hips, I don’t want you in any pain. Then you can tell me how to work this magical bed of yours.”

“The controls for the bed are just down there, on the side. It works basically like a hospital bed, both ends can be raised up or lowered down, though for me having the top part bent up is the most important thing. My hips can’t take the pressure of me sitting upright for too long, that’s why riding hurts like it does and why the quad bike seat has been altered so that I’m kind of reclining when I sit in it. If I lay at an angle it takes the majority of the pain away.”

“But not all of it?”

All I can do is shake my head.

“Nothing takes it away completely, Jay, ever, but most of the time it’s in the bearable range.”

Now it’s Jared’s turn to nod.

“You need to come here now, I’ve got work to do.”

It’s two steps from the chair to the bed, and I know I can take them unaided if I move quickly, so that’s what I’m doing, before falling backward on to the bed and swinging my legs up. Or at least I try to, but Jared’s there before me, lifting them up and stroking at my calves as he gently puts them down. Pushing my hands into the bed, I drag myself into position, laying the top half of my body over the pillows I keep there for extra support.

Grabbing the control for the bed, Jared starts to raise the bed and I can already feel my lower half thanking him. I do love this bed.

“How much of an angle?”

“This is good.”

The bed’s at about forty five degrees when he stops. Yeah, this is good, the edge is off the pain, and I’m upright enough that I can actually participate in tonight’s fun. Because despite what Jared says, I have every intention of getting some of my own in.

“This is very good, Christian. But I don’t know exactly where I want to start, do you have any ideas? I’ve been told I take direction real well.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like a virgin on my wedding night here, which is completely stupid. Can you get naked and come here and kiss me, or something, please?”

Five seconds later, Jared’s boxers are gone and he’s got his knees either side of my thighs as he leans over me. I can feel the weight of his cock on my stomach as his fingers start to thread through my hair.

“I like the fact this is longer now, and I love the curls.”

“I really want that kiss.”

Damn, the boy can take direction. He doesn’t say another word, there’s barely time for a breath as his mouth ends up hard against mine. Working my lips, involving our tongues, our teeth, it’s hard, it’s wet, it’s fucking hotter than it has any right to be and fuck.

Seriously, fuck.

“Fuck!”

I cant help laughing when it’s Jared that says that and not me.

“You mentioned we’d get around to that.”

A hand slide down my body, snaking over my chest, catching my nipples, before rubbing over my abs, then lower before it settles into cupping my cock, squeezing softly and randomly.

“God that feels so good.”

“I can make it feel better, Christian. Fuck, baby, I’m going to make you feel so good. You’re getting hard for me now, and we need that. We need you hard so I can ride you…I want you to watch me fuck myself on your cock so badly. That’s it, get harder, Christian, leak all over my hand so I get my fingers wet enough to stick in my ass while you watch that too.”

He, this, tonight, somehow it’s going to be the death of me.

“Should I suck you, Christian? Will that get you harder? I’d get to taste you then, but all that sweet precome would almost be wasted in my mouth.”

“Kneel up, Jared. You’re tall enough, brace your hands on the wall and give me your fucking cock, now!”

The second he’s up my hands are on his hips, pulling him close enough for me to swallow him down as far as I can when I’m completely out of practice, taking him like I’m fucking starved. The taste that is Jared only makes me want to take him harder, deeper, anything to get more.

“Fuck! Christian, baby, your mouth…fuck, fuck, fuck, I know you said you wanted to suck…but god, I didn’t…I have to move…can I fuck your face? Let me, please, just once or twice? Just so I can see you mouth move along my dick, I need to see that…I need to see something of me in you…Fuck, harder, baby, you can use your teeth…let me, please?”

I’m in trouble if he ever realises I’d let him do anything he wanted. But right now I have a mouthful of cock and a voice blown with lust begging me for something I want as much as he does. It takes barely my hands tightening on his hips before Jared is moving.

“Thank you, fuck, thank you…look at that, aww, fuck, baby, so beautiful.”

My jaw and my throat relaxes enough I can feel Jared’s balls brush against my chin and while I’m sure something that he’s saying is a word, it’s kind of hard to tell amongst all the panting and the lip biting.

Then suddenly, he’s gone, sitting back on his heels and pinching the base of his cock hard enough that it has to hurt. 

“Fuck, Christian, that was…fuck, I need fucking and I need it now.”

“Then give me what you found as lube so we can get on with it.”

“You don’t need…”

His hand waves at my cock and just the feel of the air moving over it has me twitching.

“I don’t need anything but you riding me like you promised. Please Jay, darlin’, it’s been so long and I want you so fucking badly, I could have come just from blowing you if you’d waited another thirty seconds or so.”

“Then I’m glad I stopped. Tonight you’re coming in my ass.”

It’s time to break out the big guns, so I drop my voice to a pitch that drips with sex.

“Then, c’mon, darlin’, hurry it up a little.”

A condom gets dropped within reach of my fingers before Jared’s covering his fingers with some kind of lotion that was probably left here by Dave or Steve. Yeah, I want to be putting that on, but there’s something else I want to do first. One of my fingertips swipes at a bead of precome leaking from his dick, then the same finger wipes over the head of my own cock. I don’t know exactly what I was going to do but Jared’s mouth is on the digit before I can think of another option. Instantly he’s sucking at it as he reaches behind himself. From the moan I hear and feel I get the idea Jared’s in a little bit of a hurry.

“How many fingers did you just push into that hole I’m going to be fucking, Jay?”

‘Two’ is muttered around the finger Jared apparently doesn’t want to let go of.

“Feel good, doesn’t it, darlin’? I know you want to do nothing more than hammer your sweet spot, but don’t, because as good as that feels I’m going to feel so much better.”

“Fuck!”

That got me my hand back and I can get the condom on now.

“Get a third finger in there already, because you’ve only got until I get this on to get ready, Jay.”

I can see Jared rocking back onto his hand, but his eyes are watching me fumble with the condom and the very second I’ve got it in place he’s over me.

“Want, want, want,” is what he chants as he sinks straight down onto me, all I can do is grab hold and make him stay still. It’s what I have to do.

“Wait…stop, fuck!”

“Yes, fuck, let’s fuck!”

“Jay, stop! You’re so fucking tight and hot and fuck, I want to last longer than ten seconds.”

He stops, but I can tell he’s already as close as I am, I can feel him starting to clench around me and from the look on his face it’s anything but on purpose.

“We can go all night later, Chris, baby, I’ve got to move, I fucking have to…let me!”

The last words are almost wailed and there’s no way I can refuse. So instead I leave one hand on his hip and wrap the other around his sex smoothing the precome he’s constantly leaking along him.

“Do it, Jay…do me.”

He wasn’t joking about wanting this to be hard. I’m the one being ridden, but Jared’s the one moving like a racehorse leaning forward as he braces his arms either side of my shoulder rocking up and slamming back down. My hand is almost stripping his sex it’s moving that fast as when I manage to move my hips just a little, I know the positioning is perfect because the wail is back and the clenching I’m feeling is getting harder, milking my orgasm from me.

“Christian, harder…fill me, jerk me, fuck me…I wanna come on your chest and lick you clean, I wanna eat you out…I wanna come on your face…you balls, you ass…I want…I want…”

You’re not the only one, Jared.

“I want you to fucking come with me…so fucking do it already!”

My hand squeezes at the head of Jared’s cock right as he push back down on me and that’s it. I’m coming, he’s coming, there are words, sounds, none of them relevant and all of them vitally important at the same time. I don’t know who says what, I just know I’m covered in come, Jared is on top of me and the pain I know I’ll feel tomorrow is completely worth it.

“Fuck, Christian.”

“Yeah, I think that’s what we just did.”

And then some.

“I have to move.”

“Yeah, you do…sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

Pushing himself just enough that my body isn’t taking any of his weight, Jared kisses me. This time there’s no teeth, no tongues but there might be a wistful promise. Then there’s just Jared, keeping the condom in place as he lifts off of me. He’s also the one that takes care of taking it off and throwing it in the trash.

The uselessness I feel must filter over my face, because Jared’s swatting at my chest.

“Whatever you’re thinking, no. I’m just looking after my lover because I want to, not because of any other reason, okay? Now stay put, I’ll be back in a second.”

And he is, with a warm washcloth, but I’m not exactly sure why. Instead of using it to clean my chest, Jared’s licking his come from skin and, dear god, it looks incredible.

“Jay, I don’t think I can…”

That stop him, which isn’t exactly what I had in mind.

“Did I hurt you?”

I never wanted to lie more than I do right now.

“Christian?”

But I can’t.

“No not exactly…you didn’t hurt me, but my hips might hate me tomorrow. They’ve never done anything like this, remember? And you rode them hard, which I loved and wanted so if I can’t do guilt about my less than able body neither can you. It’s just going to take a while for the muscles to get used to doing this again and I don’t think round two tonight is a good idea.”

This is so fucking romantic as an after sex conversation.

“Then I’ll just have to look after you tomorrow, won’t I?”

And just like that he goes back my chest, his come and even when it’s gone, he keeps going, only now he’s moving lower. My cock gets the washcloth, my scars get his mouth. Soft kiss after gentle lick is placed over every raised pucker line of skin. Weirdly, it doesn’t get me hard again, but it does have me relaxing into the bed finally trusting that when Jared says they aren’t ugly, he means it.

He also laughs against my thigh when I yawn. 

“Tired you out, did I?”

“Yeah, but it sure beats a sleeping pill, feels like it worked better too.”

The cloth gets thrown on the bedside table as Jared moves back up to lay beside me.

“Can I stay?”

Okay, I wasn’t expecting that.

“You expected me to kick you out?”

I don’t think there’s another smile on the planet like a satisfied, almost sleep Padalecki grin.

“No, I just wasn’t sure how this worked, if I’d make you uncomfortable if I stayed. And just so we’re clear I mean physically, not emotionally.” 

Why didn’t I think of that?

“To be honest, I don’t know. That night you spent in here drying out is the closest I’ve come to sleeping with somebody since the accident.”

“And you didn’t exactly sleep that night. Tonight you look, well, fucked…and well fucked. I won’t take it personally, Christian, I’d rather you got a good night’s sleep than you suffering just so I won’t get my feelings hurt.”

I’m tired, really tired, sleeping shouldn’t be a problem. I hope.

“Can we try it? You staying I mean. I don’t know how it’ll work, other than spooning or cuddling is out, sorry, and if it doesn’t work, I promise I’ll tell you…but can we try?”

The reasons why trying is so important to me are there, I know they are, but I’d have to think to bring them into focus and that’s just not something I’m going to be doing right now.

“You seriously expect me to say no? Get comfortable, baby, I’ll work around you.”

I do what I always do, lower the bed until my torso is just higher than my body, because laying flat on my back is as uncomfortable as staying upright, before getting the pillows just right under my head and shoulders. Once I’m comfortable I’m good, my body has learnt not to move around anymore once I’m asleep.

Turning my head I see Jared on his side, one of the spare pillows tucked between his shoulder and his head as he watches me.

“Sleep, Christian.”

As my eyes close, something feels wrong. I don’t know why, but I’m reaching my hand out, when Jared tangles his fingers with mine I know why. I need to know he’s here.

“Sleep, baby.”

And I do.

~*~

~Jared’s POV~

That’s the third time the phone has rung in the last fifteen minutes. Do I answer it?

Chris went into town this morning, a doctor’s check up I would have like to go with him for since I think I’m the reason he needed it, but I couldn’t work out how to bring it up, so here I am. Listening to the phone ring and kicking myself for not being gentler with Christian the night we…fucked? Had sex? Screw it, I can call it making in love in my head, right?

Yes I wanted him, but I shouldn’t have been so rough, and I should have thought about something, someone, other than my want, my need, and my body.

So yeah, Chris is in Norman, and this fucking phone won’t stop ringing! I have to answer it or rip the damn thing from the wall.

“Hello?”

“Jay?”

I was wondering how I’d explain my answering to Mrs Kane if she was the one on the other end of the line, I think I would have preferred that conversation over the one I’m about to have.

“Hey, Jensen.”

What comes now? Do I ask how is he? Do I tell him I’m okay? What about Dani and Matthew?

“H-how are you?”

I don’t think this should be this hard.

“Jen, man, we shouldn’t be this awkward, not us. I’m okay, but I’d rather know how you are. Tell me about Dani and Matt.”

Please tell me they’ve come home.

“I’m good, real good. Dani’s just putting Matthew to bed.”

Thank you, God, I owe you, big time.

“That’s great to hear, Jensen.”

Well, there’s the first hint of realism in my voice since I picked up the phone.

“How’s Chris? Is he there?”

This whole conversation is making me want to cry. Is this what I’ve done to me and my best friend? This ‘how’s the family, how’s the weather’ phone call?

“No, he has to go into town, he…he had a check up with his doctor.”

“But he’s okay?”

No, I broke him when I fucked, loved, him.

“He’s assured me it was just a check up, so yeah, he’s okay.”

After that there’s nothing but silence that I really can’t stand.

“Jen?”

“It was you I wanted to talk to, Jared, that’s why I called. But now I just don’t know how to say what I know I have to.”

Since I arrived in Oklahoma I’ve had some days where I’ve felt pretty low. They’ve consisted of the days when Chris has fought back tears as he struggles to stand up to go look after the animals he loves, or when the kids have been out here to ride taking pleasure in doing shit I wouldn’t think twice about but through all of that there wasn’t a second when I cried.

I’m crying now.

“Just tell me, Jen, just say it.”

I sound normal, I’m proud of that.

“Dani and I, we’re going away for a bit. Kind of second honeymoon, only this time we have Matty as well. I’m not working at the moment so I don’t know how long we’ll be gone. I can’t promise we’ll be back for your premier Jared…I need to look after them, Jay, I almost lost them.”

Jensen almost loses his family and he’s apologising to me? This is what you do to people, Jared, are you proud of yourself now?

“Fuck the movie, Jen, it’s just another night. There’ll be another one you can bring Dani to, but even if there isn’t, it’s not important. I’m sorry, Jen, I’m sorry that I’ve been such a craptastic friend, that your wife almost left you because of me…I’m sorry, Jen, I’m just so fucking sorry.”

I don’t sound normal anymore.

“You’re not a bad friend, Jay, you’re my best friend. But Dani’s my wife, the one I promised to love and cherish forsaking all others, Matthew’s my son, Jay, he’s my fucking son. I helped make him, I watched Danneel give birth to him and I can’t lose them, Jared, not ever again…even if it is for just another week.”

They’ve been home for almost a month and Jensen’s just calling now.

“Jensen, I’m not your responsibility, I never was, and we both should have remembered that. You…you fucking grab hold of your family and you never fucking let them go. Not for me, not for anybody. I love you, you’re my brother, and…I don’t know what else to say. I can keep saying I’m sorry. One day, I’d like to apologise to Dani, when she’s ready to hear it, and I can show her that I believe it. But until then, Jen, you know I’ll always be your friend and when you and Dani get back, maybe I’ll be somebody you can have a proper friendship with again.” 

“I’d like that. I think Dani would like to talk to you too, but-“

“Not just yet?”

“Yeah, not just yet.”

“It’s time for you to go, Jen. Dani’s got to have Matthew down by now. I’ll see you, and we’ll talk, yeah?”

I know there’s a lot of bridge mending to be done, but I have to talk to be able to talk to Jen.

“Of course we’ll talk you fucking dork, best friends, remember?”

Yeah, I remember, but whether you admit it or not, Jensen, it’s been a while since that’s what we’ve actually been.

“I remember.”

“You’re okay?”

“Ackles, stop worrying about me, remember, it’s not your job. I’m fine, just say ‘see you soon’ and hang up will you?”

“See you soon, Jay.”

The next thing I hear is the click that tells me the line’s been disconnected. Dropping the phone on to sofa, my hands scrub over my face, wiping away tears and snot and I fucking wish I could scratch away the guilt as well.

My momma always told me if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

She’s a very wise woman my Momma, but she has an foolish idiot for a son.

“You okay, Jay?”

“Fuck!”

How the fuck had I not heard Chris’ truck pull up? Or him coming inside?

Oh yeah, crying my eyes out over Jensen.

“Jared?”

“I’ll tell you everything in a minute, but can you come here first?”

Leaning heavily on his cane, Chris walks over to me, then holds out his free arm.

“C’mere, darlin’.”

Part of me is screaming that this is wrong, that Chris shouldn’t need to be comforting me because I’ve finally realised how much I’ve fucked up. But a bigger part is hoping that he’s doing this because this is what people do…when they’re partners.

That hope is just going to have remain in maybe land for the moment though.

Lifting my head as I sniff, I remember I’d promised myself I was going to look after Christian.

“We need to sit, and talk, but sit first.”

I don’t miss the look of relief as Chris gets off his feet and tilts his body back as he lowers himself onto the sofa.

“What did the doctor say?”

“I thought we might have been going to talk about that phone call that had you bawling?”

You’d do anything to avoid talking about your so-called weakness, wouldn’t you, Christian?

“We will, after you tell me what the doctor said. How badly did I hurt you?”

Christian’s looking at me a little bug eyed.

“What the? What do you mean how badly did you hurt me? What the fuck is going on in that hyper active gerbil powered brain of yours, Jay?”

“Okay, file this away for future reference. Once upon a time I was a self absorbed little boy, but I’m not anymore. You didn’t get out of bed for the entire day after we…fuck it, after we made love, and the next day you moved slower than you had since that day I arrived. I also noticed the meals of painkillers you had at various times in the day as well. So tell me what kind of damage I did so I don’t do it again.”

Before Chris answers me, he grabs hold of my hand, interlacing our fingers. Chris can’t curl around somebody and cuddle, I’m not sure he would even if he could, but holding hands is important to him.

It’s becoming important to me as well

“We, I…you…fuck. You do realise I’ve never had to talk about this kind of thing, don’t you?”

What I wouldn’t give to be able to tell you to get used to it.

“Yeah, well, you do now, so spill.”

“Okay, just so you know I didn’t notice this at the time, there was no pain and I loved every second…for the ten seconds we both lasted, but you…”

“I?”

“You were a little enthusiastic when you were riding me and you pushed down on my hips too hard. Next time you want it like that it might have to involve a dildo and my mouth.”

There’s a mental image I didn’t need while we’re trying to have a serious conversation. But I’ll be bringing it out to inspect thoroughly when I have a shower later.

“We…okay, I can see there’s going to be a need for some creativity in our sex life, that’s never a bad thing. Now answer my question, what kind of damage did I do?”

Christian mumbles something that I’m sure is ‘stubborn fucker’ but he’s smiling when he does it. 

“Nothing serious, or permanent. All the bones and pins and hardware is still where its meant to be. Yes I had to have a scan but I swear to god they’d make me have one of those if I sneezed too hard so that’s nothing for you to get your panties in a wad over. But the muscles kind of spasmed contracting and staying that way doing their best to push everything out of alignment. The doc wants me to go to a place that does massage therapy to get them to relax. I was kind of hoping you could help me with that. I really don’t want a stranger touching me.”

“I can try, but if it doesn’t help I’m dragging your ass to that therapist. I’ll stay with you, but you’re going, got it?”

He’ll probably try and lie to me, but that’s okay. I already know his tells.

“Yeah. Now it’s your turn though. Tell me about the phone call.”

“Dani and Matthew are home.”

A nod is my only answer.

“You already knew that, didn’t you?”

“Are you going to be mad if I say yes? Steve told me a couple of weeks ago, but Jensen asked us both to say nothing to you.”

I shouldn’t but I can’t help wondering if it was because he wanted me to sweat. It’s not like I didn’t deserve it.

“Jay? Jensen wasn’t trying to hurt you, he just had other things to worry about.”

“You can say it, more important things. Fuck, Chris, you’re right, his wife and son are more important, I just can’t believe that I…that he…yeah, you know what I mean.” 

A thumb starts to rub back and forth over my knuckles and just that simple touch grounds me back in the here and now.

“I do know what you mean. Jared, you wouldn’t have been ready to say what you said to Jen today when Steve first told me Dani had gone back home. Whatever his reasons for waiting were, Jensen did you both a favour. You’re seeing everything clearer now, with a completely different perspective, you should be proud of that.”

Maybe I’ll manage proud later, after I’ve beaten myself up for being such a dick for so damn long.

“Jensen and Dani, they’re going away for a break, I don’t know, it sounded like they might even end up on a beach somewhere where all three of them can run around naked. He didn’t know when they’d be back but it won’t be for my premier. He sounded happy, Chris. Sadly, I don’t remember the last time Jensen sounded happy when he was talking to me.”

There’s something wrong with Chris’ smile, it’s there and yet somehow it’s missing. Why?

“Yeah you do, it was today. The world doesn’t give you do overs, but it does give you second, third, and twenty forth chances. I don’t think you’ll blow it this time.”

I know I won’t.

That’s when I notice the bead of sweat.

No, I’m not going to blow any of my chances this time.

“Did the doctor give you a different massage oil to try? And how the hell did you explain what happened?”

“He’s given me some herbal, aromatherapy, hippy trippy shit that Steve could probably tell you all about to use. As long as it doesn’t smell like unwashed gym socks I’ll go along with it. As for explaining, well, that was kind of easy. I mentioned I might have been riding and let him jump to his own conclusions.” 

“How many times has it been because you were riding more than you should?”

“Too many?”

Yeah, that’s what I thought.

“Get your ass upstairs, Kane. I’ll grab the oil and meet you up there to help you get undressed.”

“You don’t have to…”

“And you don’t have to finish that sentence. C’mon, go. There’s a massage and a hand job with your name on it waiting for you.”

He goes. Slowly, but he goes. I’m guessing Chris left the oil on the kitchen table so that’s where I head. I kind of have to check the calendar while I’m out there.

I’d forgotten about the premier, I haven’t called my agent since I got here. I have no idea what day it is, or when I have to be back in L.A. 

Standing in front of calendar a few moments later all I can do is curse. I have to call Jillian tomorrow and I’ve got less than a week to convince Christian to come back with me. 

This is going to be the start of a week full of very important massages.

~*~

~Christian’s POV~

Up down, round and round. I know I liken Jared to a carnival, but I think I want off of this ride now.

I want my steady world back. Okay, it might have been a shade too far towards boring, but fuck it, I knew what each day would bring, and I was happy.

That’s one thing I learned a long time ago, the only person that can make you happy is you. And I would have had no problem continuing on the path laid out in front of me.

That was before Jared took to my steady path with a backhoe. There are hills and valleys all over the place and I have no idea where my next step is going to land.

God, he’s trying. He’s attentive, sweet, helps me when I need it and lets me frustrate the shit out of him by doing it myself when I need to do that as well.

It should all be perfect, right? Jared and I, we’re starting something. 

Something that’s going to be ending soon, I’ve seen it in his eyes. His mouth opens and when no words come Jared slams his jaw shut and shakes his head in frustration.

Like I said, what good is a start when you can already see the end?

I just wish he’d come out and say it. I’m a big boy, I can take it.

It’s not like I haven’t had to swallow a bitter pill or two before, is it?

~*~

~Jared’s POV~

“Hey, Jay? Just for something different, I’ve got something I’d like to try, you game?” 

If it wasn’t for the look of gathering thunder on Chris’ face as he stands in the doorway between the kitchen the living room, I could almost make myself believe there’s a chance I’ll get lucky tonight.

All this dosey-do’ing Chris and I are doing is reminding me why barn dancing never looked like any fun.

“Yeah. Sure.”

I think.

“Then how about you actually tell me what the fuck is going on with you.”

Okay, I knew I wasn’t doing a great job of hiding it, but I didn’t think I was doing that bad a one either.

Apparently I was wrong.

“I have…you…we need to talk.”

Fuck, could I make it sound anymore like I want to dump his ass? That’s actually the last thing I’m looking to accomplish here.

“So talk.”

And now Christian’s got his back up and so two minutes into one of the most important conversations of my life I really don’t want to think about how this can get any worse.

“I know I’m doing a really bad job of this, and you have no fucking idea how much I really, really want to get this right, but could you at least give me a chance to get both feet out of my mouth and explain before you jump all over me? It’d be nice if you came and sat down with me too.”

For a minute I’m really not sure he’ll give me what I’m asking for, but eventually Chris pushes away from the wall he’s leaning on to come closer. But instead of sitting beside me, he sits down in the chair opposite me. Just like the night I arrived.

Him Christian, me fuck up.

Thanks for making this so much easier, baby.

“You’re right, there is something I want to talk to you about. And I guess it’s been my turn to over thinking it six ways from Sunday, mostly because I have no idea how you’ll take it.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not helping your case here any, Jared.”

I know!

“I know! Fuck! You honestly have no idea how intimidating you are.”

That snort of laughter isn’t what I’d call complimentary.

“Who? Me? I’m the same cripple I was yesterday and that’s about as far from threatening as you can get.”

Oh fuck this shit.

“Don’t even think about starting up with that kind of crap. If you want to pigeon hole yourself, be my guest, but don’t be putting words in my mouth! I have no fucking idea what you see when you look in the mirror, and I probably don’t want to, but I still see the same guy that nearly had me pissing myself the night Riley introduced us.”

“Are you ever going to wake up and take a good look at the real world, Jared?”

On a very obvious level, it’s crystal clear that Chris is itching for a fight, what I’m having trouble understanding is why I’m going to give it to him.

“What on God’s green earth do you want me to look at, Christian? Am I supposed to see that you aren’t quite in original condition any more? I can see that just fine, but, fuck, nobody stays the same. Physically you might not be the same guy that was once stupid enough to hood surf and video tape it, but the guy inside? The Christian that was loyal and loved beyond a fault? He’s still there. You’ve just wrapped him in a few more layers of bitter and bullshit. So how about you don’t talk to me about seeing the real world, Christian, not when you’ve turned this ranch into your own personal version of Neverland.”

One day, if I ever get the chance again, I’d like to work out why Chris and I seem destined never to be able to keep the status quo at an even keel, but it’s not going to happen today. No, today I have to work out how the hell to get back to the topic I wanted to be discussing in the first place.

Not that I have a snowballs chance in hell of Chris coming to my premier anymore anyway.

“My life has changed, Padalecki. I dealt with it.”

God, I wish he’d said something else. Absolutely anything but that.

Ask anybody, I don’t have a temper. But just for the record anybody would be very wrong. I have a temper, it’s just slower to boil than most. It’s boiling over right about now. And while I know yelling at Chris is the worse thing I could do right now I just can’t seem to stop.

“No, you didn’t! To me it looks like you came here, away from absolutely everybody so you could do anything but ‘deal with it’. Nobody here knows you well enough to get in your face, fuck, most of the week the only company you have is your own anyway. I don’t get it, you have the most amazing friends and family that would do anything for you – they love you that much. But, somehow, without them even realising it, you keep them at arms length. In variations on a theme, we both handle shit exactly the same way, we ignore it and hope it won’t be there in the morning. And for as much as we’re both loved, we’re both alone.”

“If you hate it here so much – fucking leave! Just because I let you fuck me doesn’t mean you have the right to pass judgement over my life.”

Well that took the wind from my sails, didn’t it?

“That’s my point, Christian, you don’t have a life. Or not a complete one anyway.”

“And of course, Jared Padalecki super slut is the one qualified to tell me that isn’t he?”

He’s lashing out, I get that. But that doesn’t mean what he’s saying isn’t cutting deep enough that I can’t figure out why I’m not bleeding.

“It might as well be me, slut or not, Chris. After all, you already hate me and it’s not like anybody that loves you is going to say it.”

“I don’t hate you!”

“Well you sure as hell don’t like me, so what’s my other option?”

Now he shuts up, great.

“I wish, god I’d do anything to be able to talk to you, really talk to you, but obviously we’re over our allowed quotas for that. I guess we could just skip straight to the fucking, but you know what? You could actually mean something to me and I kind of want to keep this, whatever the fuck this is, apart from the me that thought sex was the answer to every question from ‘How are you’ to ‘How’s the weather?’.”

The sound of Chris’ cane being slammed into the floor makes me jump, but when I look at his face, I’m a little confused about whether I should run…or cry.

“See, that, right there, that’s you trying to fool yourself and drag me along for the ride! You’re standing there, actually seeming like you believe what you’re saying. ‘Out there, in here, you’ve changed’ blah, blah fucking blah. If this is my personal universe you’ve brought into just as much as you think I have. You think you feel something for me *here*, you’re all cured *here* and yet you’ve told me that *here* doesn’t exist anywhere outside of my own fucking head.”

He should be pacing right? Waving his arms around, ranting. Yeah, how about no. He just keeps going, only pausing to take a breath.

“That means that following your logic we don’t exist either, so everything you think you’re telling me in complete sincerity is nothing but shit. You leave here and there is nothing stopping you from walking straight into Paris Hilton’s pussy because a month or so ago, that was your real world, not me, not here, not anything that makes any fucking sense to me. And yet you stand there passing judgement on me like your shit doesn’t stink. Exactly what kind of reaction are you after, Jared?”

Why, when he looks like he’s about to explode, is his voice Buddhist monk calm? I’m sorry, but that’s a tone I just can’t match, not now.

“I wasn’t after any reaction, I wasn’t after any of this! I have a premier I have to go to in L.A. and all I fucking wanted was for you to come back there with me! I wanted you to be with me for something that is important to me! That was all I fucking wanted!”

Why won’t he let me tell him that he’s important to me, instead of looking at me like I’m something he stepped in while wearing his favourite boots?

Yeah, that’s all I’ve got, a whole lot of why’s.

“You don’t know what’s important to you, Jared. You’re in Neverland, remember?”

No, at this very minute I’m in hell. There’s flames, and heat and I can’t actually feel any of it. I know this feeling, though this is the first time I’ve been sober for it.

“I know what I want, Chris. I want a chance to find out what we could be, is that too much to ask? There’s a life out there, and it’s one we could have together – is that so fucking bad?”

I’m watching as Chris deflates, losing the thunder and the temper and just sagging into the chair he’s sitting on.

“You want me to change my entire fucking life, Jared, what do you think?”

All I can think is I have a vegetable garden to finish, that’s perfectly normal, right?

Walking out isn’t the right thing to do, I’m not so stupid that I don’t know that. But I can’t stay, not in this room and apparently not in Oklahoma. If all I can leave Chris is a vegetable garden, it’s going to be the best vegetable garden ever created. It’ll grow gold plated carrots by the time I’m done.

~*~

~Christian’s POV~

“I’ve finished your garden.”

Jared’s standing there in almost the exact position I was yesterday, waiting for me to say something, anything, his name would probably do, but ‘great’, ‘thanks’, ‘fuck off’, and ‘stay’ are all fighting to come out so I don’t say anything at all.

“You know Christian, if you really were this desperate for me to be gone, all you had to do was say so.”

“Now who’s putting words in whose mouth?”

Yeah, not even close to what I meant to say. 

“Fuck Chris, I might as well speak for you because you’re sure as hell not going to say anything to me. I’m almost tempted to hang around to see how long you can keep up the silent treatment for, after all the last twenty four hours have been so much fun.”

“What exactly would you like me to say, Jared? Stay? Go? Can I have a clue?” 

“Say exactly what you want to, Chris, that’s what I want. I want something real from you!”

“Do you need a lift into town?”

To look at Jared’s face you’d think I just hauled off and slapped him. Maybe, in a way that didn’t actually involve my hands, I did. 

Yeah, right, there’s no maybe about it.

“No, I don’t. The only thing I want, or need, from you isn’t on offer and I’m fucking done with settling for what’s conveniently left.”

Good.

Thank god that wasn’t out loud.

But now we’re back to standing here and staring at each other with neither of us knowing what comes next.

“You’re really going to let me leave, aren’t you?”

Okay, it would seem it was just me that didn’t have that clue.

“What the fuck do you want from me, Jay? You call me a coward, tell me I’m not living, and compare my world to either a place where kids never grow up, or, one where weird assed used to be black pop singers molest them, and what? I’m meant to beg you to stay because you love it here so much? You just can’t be fucking serious.”

“I never…you’d never hurt a child, Chris, I know that. The molestation thing…that wasn’t what I meant. God, Chris, you couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Ever.”

“Well, it’s nice to know I haven’t sunk to quite that level in your eyes just yet.”

But if you stay while my position is still sinking who’s to say what’ll happen. And maybe that’s why you’ve got to leave. 

“Why aren’t you even pretending to put up a fight? Why am I the only one that doesn’t want this over yet? I know you care, Christian, I fucking know it.”

Then you don’t need me to tell you, do you?

“How are you getting into Norman?”

“It doesn’t fucking matter!”

Any minute now there’ll be a hole in my dry wall, or a bruise blooming on my face.

“I’m going, that’s what matters isn’t it? That you’ll be rid of me, that’s the important thing, right? I get it now, you’re going to cut your nose off to spite your face, and hell, I should have expected it. It’s not exactly the first time you’ve done it, is it? After the accident you didn’t have to come out here. Sure, you couldn’t be Eliot Spencer anymore, but you could still be Christian Kane, nobody ever mentioned there being anything wrong with your vocal cords. But in the month or so I’ve been here, I haven’t even seen a fucking guitar, let alone heard you play one. You walked away from your family, your friends, your career because if you couldn’t have some of it, you didn’t want any of it. That’s real fucking grown up of you, Christian.”

The glass I don’t even remember picking up shatters on the wall inches away from Jared’s left ear. He doesn’t flinch and I’m not going to apologise.

“I was never meant to use a cane, Jared, it doesn’t offer enough support for me and I snapped three of them before I found somewhere that would reinforce the wood with metal because I got sick of kissing the concrete. But fuck I hated those crutches and I was not going to be using them for the rest of my life. I just was not going to let that happen. Did you ever think that maybe while I was learning to walk again, working on gaining some form of control over my body again, that maybe I needed to make a clean break? That I couldn’t find a fucking reason to get up when all I had to look forward to was being presented with everything that was no longer mine? I did what I had to do to make a life that I actually wanted to live, and then you turn up telling me it’s not fucking worth anything. I always meant to retire to Norman, Jared, I brought the land here when ‘Angel’ fucking finished. My family knew that, and yes, I’ve gotten slightly more independent than they would like, but they understand. As for my friends, those left can be counted on one hand, Jared, and they have lives just like I do. And you have no idea how involved with me they are or aren’t. And you have no idea how much they mean to me. You can’t just judge my life on a couple of months interaction, it just doesn’t work that way.”

“Why do you have to do everything alone? Why won’t you let somebody just be there?”

“You don’t want to be here for me Jared, you want me to be there for you. In your home base, living your life, walking back into a life that I don’t want anymore. If you had the power to give me back my legs, I’d still want to be right here. I told you I’m not the same guy I was when I had the accident, Jared, you obviously thought I meant I was less now. I’m not. Sure, some days I’m bitter, and I hate my fucking body, but I don’t hate my life.”

Where this calm is coming from I’ve got not fucking idea, but if it lasts until Jared is out the door, I’ll be grateful.

“And sharing it with somebody, Chris, what about that?”

“You never mentioned sharing, Jared.”

I would have remembered that. I would have loved that.

There are a lot of things I could have loved given half the chance.

“You won’t leave here, and I can’t stay.”

“There was no compromise in what you screamed at me, Jared. I never said I wouldn’t leave, but yeah, I would refuse to stay gone for any length of time. But you’re right about one thing, you can’t stay.”

You’re the one that hates it here, not me. You’re also the one that has to find out what’s back there in Hollywoodland waiting for him, because if you don’t, you’ll always wonder.

The sudden burst of a sounding car horn gets more reaction that the breaking glass. I wonder how much he had to pay a cab to come all the way out here?

“So that’s it?”

He keeps asking me questions that aren’t mine to answer, and god, I wish he’d fucking stop.

“Please Jared, just go. You know it’s what you have to do.”

Isn’t it?

It must be, because when the horn goes again, Jared just turns around and walks out.

I should call Steve, let him know Jared’s coming back. I should call Dave and tell him…who the hell knows what. I should do all of that. And I will.

Later.

A lot later.

When the pain goes away. 

And for the first time in six years, I’m not talking about my hips.

~*~

“Dave?”

“Christian? What’s happened? What’s wrong?”

Everything. All of it. It’s all wrong.

“Jared’s gone back…home. He’s not coming back.”

“I’ll be there tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you.”

There’s no need to tell him I’ll be here waiting. After all, where else would I be?

~*~

~Jared’s POV~

Whoever’s knocking at my door apparently doesn’t want to go away.

How wrong is it that I’m scared of answering my front door? There are so many people it could be and not one of them is anybody I want to talk to. Jen’s away with Dani, Chad’s not talking to me and after that I’m out of decent options.

“Jared, fucker, it’s Steve, open the damn door.”

Steve?

Seriously?

I’m standing in front of an open door way before I even realise I was moving. 

“Thank god, man. I thought I was going to have to call the damn fire department or something.”

“Why…How…”

Christ, I think I’ll just shut the fuck up now.

Steve doesn’t answer any of my not formed questions, he just puts one hand on my shoulder and pushes me out of the way so he can shut the door. Still without speaking he steers me over to the sofa and sits me down before taking his place beside me.

“Okay, so why am I here? I was worried about you. Not worried in the same way Jensen would have been six months ago, just worried.”

“Chris called you?”

Yeah, right, in my dreams.

“No, Chris called David. Dave thought you might need somebody so he called me.”

Great. A guy I’ve met exactly twice cares more about me than Christian does. Yes, Virginia, Jared Padalecki can get even more pitiful than he thought was humanly possible.

“Yeah, well, I’m fine. You can see I’m fine. I’ve got my movie premier tomorrow night, everything’s just fantastic. You can tell David that.”

“I can, can I? You want to tell me why I’d be lying to Dave like that?”

“Lying to David? Or to Christian?”

I can’t sit still for this and Steve doesn’t stop me as I get up and start to pace.

“Okay, alright, I’m not fine. What’s anybody going to do about it? I wanted to ask Chris to come back with me, for tomorrow night. I tried to ask him but it got all tangled around him being the most solitary, stubborn fuck ever to walk the planet. Then I said stupid crap, he countered with stupid crap of his own and it became a stupid crapfest that left both of us hurting. Now I’m here alone when I don’t want to be, Christian is in Oklahoma alone like he always is and fuck it, I’m making even less sense now than I did then!”

How that is even possible I’ve got no fucking idea.

“Chris isn’t alone, Jared, Dave’s with him.”

“Well that’s just fucking peachy! What’s Boreanaz got that I haven’t, huh? Can you tell me that?” 

“You mean other than a history with Chris that’s almost two decades long and the ability to straight talk him in a way nobody else can?” 

“Yes!”

No. 

Maybe.

“Jared, David Boreanez is and always will be Christian’s best friend. I mean we’re talking Kirk and Spock type shit here. He is always going to be the one Chris turns to.”

“Why? Why couldn’t he…”

Why couldn’t he want me as well?

“Jay, man, sit. I’m going to explain as much as I can but I’m not going to give myself whiplash watching you stalk back and forth while I do it.”

I sit. 

“Okay, just so you know I have no idea what happened between you and Chris, other than your insane ramblings tonight. But I’m going to tell you about this guy I knew once.”

Where the fuck is Steve going with this? Well, wherever the hell it is, Steve’s still going there and he’s expecting me to keep up.

“Everybody used to call him ‘Christian Fucking Kane’ like he was his own super hero. The projection of himself that he showed anybody that glanced his way was the three C’s the whole way – cocky, confidant and charismatic. He had so many people thinking they were his boys, his main girl, his posse. He was almost a little like you in that way.”

He was what?

“Steve-“

“Shut up and listen, Jay. But, see, where as you used to draw everybody in and show them everything you had, and, Christian, he kept them far enough away so they could never see past his façade. He never wanted any of those bodies getting too close, he was never sure they’d like what they saw when the house lights came back up. You think about it Jared, Chris’ friends have pretty much always been Brandon, Dave, Jen, Riley, Mike and me. Other’s have come and gone, some closer than others but that core has been his constant. I love Chris, I’d do anything for him, but I’ve always known that as close as I was, I was no Brandon or David.”

Steve kind of shakes himself before he continues. 

“Christian Fucking Kane died behind the wheel of his truck that night, Jared, and he took a lot of Christian Michael Kane with him. Chris was never that good at asking for help, but after the accident…do you get how demoralising that was for him, Jay?”

I’m quiet for a minute, thinking, but then I realise there’s only one answer I can give.

“No.”

“You know he was bed ridden after the operations, but I’ll bet you’ve never really thought about exactly what that meant. I know I didn’t until I faced with the reality of it all. When they had him really doped up it was a catheter and/or adult diapers. If he was lucid, it’d be a bottle or a bed pan which didn’t always get in place in time. And just when it’d be getting better for him he’d be back under the knife again and he’d be back to square one all over again.”

Steve goes quiet for a minute, letting that sink it.

I think I’m going to be sick.

“He hated those nurses, Jared. Hated that his momma had to care for him like a newborn, and he hated that he couldn’t control his body. Most of all he hated that we saw all of it. He shut down so badly that I honestly thought nobody could reach him. Somehow, fuck knows how, but somehow Dave and Brandon did. He didn’t exactly let them help, but he let them be there for him when he wouldn’t let anybody else do that. So anyway, when he started therapy, he pushed himself harder than he should have because he wanted control back and you know what? As much as I hated seeing him in the kind of pain he was in, I kind of understood why he had to do it as well. He’d had so much taken away from him, and if he could do something for himself I was going to let him. We all were.”

“But…Oklahoma? The ranch? Why the fuck did he have to walk away from everything?”

“Because he could, Jay. He wasn’t throwing a childish fit, he was finding a life he could live within the limits he had left. It hurt him to walk away from the dreams he’d grown in California, but it would have killed him if he’d had to walk away from the dreams he had of Oklahoma.”

Oh. Fuck.

Shit.

“I think…I think I’m going back to the ranch after tomorrow night.”

Nodding quietly, Steve just smiles.

“You’ve worked it out, haven’t you? Riley, Jensen, Mike, Me, we all took no for an answer sometimes because…well because we loved Chris. Brandon and David they didn’t take no for an answer for exactly the same reason. I don’t think you should be aiming to be on the same level as Rosenbaum in Chris’ life, do you?”

No. I don’t. 

~*~

~Christian’s POV~

Sitting in the cab it occurs to me, again, that there is a list of people a mile long that could have helped make tonight a lot easier for me. Not the least of which is Jared himself, and yet, here I am doing it all by myself again.

Or, you know, still. Start as you mean to go on, right?

No. I’m hoping this’ll be the last time, I need to prove to myself that I have to do everything on my own. It never mattered to me what all the people on this planet I’d never met thought. And the people that do matter…yeah well, they never thought I was any less of a me in the first place. Dave made that more than abundantly clear.

If I push people away, of course they’re going to leave. But maybe if I let them closer they’ll actually want to come back. 

Of course that little realisation didn’t stop Dave from calling me a stubborn asshole tonight when I told him I’d be making my own way to the theatre. I know he regrets that remark, but only because he had to explain to his beautiful baby girl exactly what an asshole is and why she shouldn’t be calling her brother one.

And he calls me the bad influence. Then again, Jaden calls me the best uncle ever and I can live with being a bad influence if I get the second claim to fame as well.

Maybe I should have taken Jamie up on her offer to hang off my arm as my token blonde tonight though. In the ten days since Jared left the ranch I haven’t spoken to him and for all I know he might have four different dates for this thing. After all, I’m the one that wouldn’t let him ask me to come back with him and…fuck, Christian, stop this already.

Have a little faith in Jared, okay? Yes, he might still be pissed at you, but he won’t have jumped straight back into being King of Dickdom, he cares too much to do that now. Maybe neither of you will get happy ever after which each other, but fuck, you’re going to know you tried.

And life is about all kinds of trying, of all people you should know that.

Yeah, okay, I think I’m over channelling my inner David to give myself a little pep talk right now. Besides, even though Jensen and Dani won’t be there tonight, there’ll still be Steve, and Riley’s coming. Neither of them will let me make a fool of myself.

At least not a complete fool.

Maybe I should have told Steve I was coming tonight. Fuck, of course I should have told *somebody*. But no, if there’s a hard way to do something, I’ll take it. And if there isn’t one? Watch me, I’ll make sure one suddenly appears.

Fuck me, we’re here. The cab can only get me so close and that means I’ll be walking more than I should, but this is worth it, Jared’s worth it. After paying the driver, getting out and finding my feet I stand as still as I can while I close my eyes and just breathe.

‘C’mon you stubborn asshole, you’ve come this far.’ 

Okay, *now* I’m done with my inner Boreanaz.

The first person who sees me is Riley. But from the way he takes a second then a third look before pushing his way over to me I can tell he doesn’t really believe I’m here. When there are strong arms wrapped around my shoulders that’s when he’s finally convinced that no, I’m not some weird mirage.

“You are a sight for sore eyes, Kane.” Of course right after he’s said that is when he smacks me upside the head. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell somebody you were coming? We could have arranged a limo, all that shit.”

“I didn’t tell anybody because I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t chicken out at the last minute. That and I wasn’t sure I’d be welcome. Riley, sometimes it’s not me being stubborn, it’s me doing something that I need to do by myself.”

“Yeah and sometimes it’s both. C’mon, Steve’s here already.”

Riley doesn’t mention Jared and I don’t ask. What he does do though is stop when we’re just out of view of the crowd and the media.

“Okay, I have no fucking idea what happened in Oklahoma, but I know it was important. If meeting Jared for lunch a couple of days ago hadn’t convinced me that of that, the fact you’re here now after six years of wanting to forget you’d ever heard of Hollywood would have. But you don’t have to prove anything to me or Steve or, most of all, to Jared. So if you don’t want to do the red carpet, fucking don’t.”

God, it would be so easy.

“I still have to prove it to me, Riley. But promise me you won’t go far, I may need a hand.”

Literally.

Muttering something that I miss completely, Riley places a hand on the small of my back with a simple ‘excuse us’ the crowd parts and for the first time in too long I’m somewhere I never thought I’d ever be again.

There are flashes and people and questions and Steve and fuck! I’m getting seasick. I really should have taken Riley up on the chance to slip in the side door.

My next step falters just a little, not enough for me to fall, but enough that I know better than to try and take another one straight away. Then there’s a hand holding mine, squeezing tightly as blinding lights are suddenly gone from view.

He’s doing nothing but holding my hand as he lowers his head enough to whisper in my ear.

“I’ve got you.”

“Jay.”

It’s not a question, I know who it is.

“See, Chris, I told you you wouldn’t be needing me.”

I guess that’s the mumbling I missed before, but Riley’s not waiting for me to say anything before he’s off to talk to somebody. Steve heads in another direction taking control of some other camera and microphone being shoved in his face.

“Christian? You okay?”

Not really.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I let you go, I should have told you I’d come, should have supported you. But I hate this circus, Jay, I can’t help it. I’ll never be able to live in this world again, not all the time anyway. But maybe we can work something out?”

“Baby, we’re both idiots. I should have made it obvious I’d never ask you to give up the ranch. And I really should have thought about what I was saying, because, yeah, I’m sorry. I was wrong, very wrong. Fuck it, I don’t want to live here permanently anymore either, I want to watch Gemma wrap you around her finger some more. All I want is to know you’ll be there when I need you and you’ll be waiting when I come home, whatever home we’re staying in at the time.”

I can feel the smile on my mouth pulling at my eyes and god it feels good.

“You realise we’re in the middle of a red carpet at the premier of the movie that’ll probably win you an Oscar, right?” 

“Ask me if I care? My boyfriend is here, and there’s some shit we need to get sorted out.”

“It’s sorted, Jay, the particulars can wait.”

“I’m going to love you one day, Christian Kane.”

Then with nothing more than a kiss just below my ear, Jared’s standing back up, and pacing himself with my steps. He talks to everybody, lets me answers the questions I want to while fending the ones that are nobody else’s business anyway.

And not once does he let go of my hand. 

If I were to close my eyes I bet the stale, not quite cool enough L.A. night would disappear. I’d be able taste the clean summer heat and hear the carnie offering one last ride before the fire works.

I don’t need those pretty colours and the smell of gunpowder to bring the promise of a return visit from the carnival tonight. I won’t need it ever again.

The rest of my life may turn into one long tilt-a-whirl ride, but if the person right there beside me is Jared, I think it’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> So many people read this and beta'ed this...they know who they are and that I adore them.


End file.
